Eden
by Kawaii Kisu
Summary: Paradise just got a whole new definition.
1. Riku: Do or Die

**Friday Nov. 3, 6812; Sector 3**

Quiet. Too quiet for comfort. No, he didn't want to move just yet, not until he was sure…

It had been like this for weeks, with each day creeping by with an ever growing tension that was near about unbearable. Twenty-five days, each seeming longer than the last. Every bone in the poor boy's body felt frozen stiff, as if an attempt at movement had been made then later aborted. His fingers felt numb, but he didn't loosen the death like grip he had on the handgun pressed against his chest. Cradled, like a sleeping infant. A cold, heavy, lethal infant.

"_Ri…ku…_"

A whisper. Very faint, and yet he managed to catch it. It sounded like the speaker had forgotten how to breathe and talk at the same time. She sounded pained and raspy, her voice carrying into the chilly air with an unnerving echo. It grated against his ears. The boy shifted on his bed, aquamarine eyes darting towards his bedroom door tiredly. It sat slightly cracked open, offering a view of the darkened hallway he'd grown so accustomed to avoiding at night. There was a clutter of overturned tables, broken bits of glass and cotton strewn about, food crumbs, wood chips, shredded pieces of clothing—all of this, and a trail…

A trail of blood.

He stared at the door for a long moment, at the shadowy figure he could see approaching through the crack, and wrinkled his nose at the spiteful wave of stink her presence brought. One would expect to hear a dragging sound, the way the figure was crawling about, but there was none. One of the things that freaked him out; you never heard her coming. Before long the source of the rasping voice was sitting outside the room—a woman's figure dressed in a peach colored night gown—poking a sickeningly thin finger inside in a shy fashion. That was as far as she ever went. It was too bright inside the room.

In fact, he had dragged away just about every lamp he could find in the house ages ago and promptly plugged them up in his room. Seven in total. Two floor lamps, one from his father's office and the one in the living room; three desk lamps, one from the same office, his brother's room, and the one already plugged up on his desk; a table lamp from the hallway; and a spider lamp with five arms that his mother had originally packed away in the garage. (Extension outlets were a wonderful thing.)

The lamps stayed on the moment it got slightly dark outside, and when they were off during the daylight hours he simply opened the windows as widely as possible, letting sunlight seep in. Even then, he kept the door locked. It was only at night, nights like this, with the lamps on full blast and his father's gun in hand that he felt safest.

"_Ri…ku… Open… Open the door, please?_"

That whisper again, much louder this time. It was a challenge to look at the pitiful excuse of a woman. And who could blame him? It was like staring upon the living dead.

Once beautifully pale skin was now such a light gray that it almost looked like paper. Cracked and splotched in several places, revealing a layer of grimy red that he assumed was blood trying to slip through. The mess of silver hair on the woman's head was just a darker shade of gray, caked with dried blood in some spots, making her even more ghostly. She was thinner than he remembered—he hadn't seen her in about three days—yet her face still held some of its youthful roundness. But no, it wasn't her paleness or her matted hair, or even the skeletal frame she had acquired over the weeks that bothered him the most. It was her eyes.

They were completely gone.

That's how he liked to think of it, anyway. Someone had taken a net of thinly woven nerves and stretched them on either side of her eyes. Then they'd stretched her sockets to their limit and scooped out her eyes, replaced them with golden orbs that held an ethereal glow. Golden orbs that seemed three times too big for her face. Orbs that had a marbled look to them. And when they moved, they made a slimy sound. They swiveled about like a lizard's. It unnerved him in a way he couldn't possible describe.

And the woman just sat there, staring at him but not really seeing him, eyes glowing dully in the darkness. Even from his bed, laden with pillows that formed a wall around him, he could see her cracked mouth opening ever so slightly as she pressed it against the door.

"_Riku? It's bright… It hurts…my…my eyes._"

"That's the point."

Dear God… Was his voice really that hoarse? He didn't even recognize it—it was almost as dry and croaky as hers, but it didn't echo, nor did it send chills down his spine. He'd gone so long without speaking that it hurt his throat.

She scratched at the door, still whispering. "_Turn…turn them off… Let me in, baby. Please?_"

Riku gripped the gun tighter, pressing himself further into the backboard of his bed. He could feel his back muscles ache, but he ignored them, unable to take his eyes away from the woman.

Five fingers now. Her hand was gripping the edge of the door. "_Pl…ease… You could…come out instead?_"

Every demand posed as a polite question. Somehow that just made it harder to listen.

"Go away, Mom."

"_Just turn off the light… It burns, baby…my eyes…_"

"Go away."

Ten fingers. Both hands were gripping the door. "_Please?_"

"No."

"_Ri…ku…_"

Tears slid down his cheeks, surprising him with their wetness. _Look away_, he kept telling himself. _Look away now…_

But he couldn't, and that's what killed him. Seeing her like this—as some barely breathing, walking corpse—scared him to the point where he didn't dare venture outside of his room, not even during the day, unless he needed food or water. And, occasionally, the bathroom. Hearing her speak gave him nightmares, made him paranoid, and he couldn't stand it.

"_Riku?_"

It was getting hard for him to focus his vision, the way he was crying, but he let the tears fall. Then he found his hands were moving on their own, lifting the gun. Pointing it.

His mother stopped moving, staring at the weapon.

"_Baby…?_"

"Go away.

"_I just… We can…talk… Come out…_"

He didn't hear the gun go off, merely felt it, which was strange. He didn't give it much thought, however, nor did he care for the sudden shock of pain that zipped through his arms. It was almost as if the weapon had a life of its own, thrusting him back. A burnt smell mingled with the rusty one, assaulting his nose. For a split second, Riku wasn't sure what had happened. It was only when he saw the fresh spots of blackish red staining his carpet, a lone finger resting on the floor, that he realized and accepted. A chunk of wood had been chipped off of the door, circular in shape where the bullet had ricocheted.

The strangest thing about it was that his mother wasn't shocked. If anything, she seemed a little soothed by the events. She stared at her finger with those slimy, lizard's eyes, unblinking before lifting her injured hand to stare at the stump where her ring finger used to be. Blood dribbled from it, coating her mangled hand. Then she looked back to her son, cocking her head to the side. "_That hurt…_"

"GO THE FUCK AWAY!"

Silence. A blank stare. More tears raining down.

Then the woman crawled off, trailing more blood as she went.

~x~

**Saturday Nov. 4, 6812; Sector 3**

The next morning crept along slowly, but when those first few rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds Riku was grateful. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. That was probably why the teen remained in bed until noon, eyelids heavy but never staying closed for more than ten minutes at a time. Paranoia did that to a person.

The poor boy lay on his side, one hand cushioning his head and the other draped loosely over his father's gun. His eyes swept over the room. Dozens of water bottles were scattered here and there, some halfway filled, most close to empty. Crumpled snack wrappers and plastic bags crammed in between personal items on the dresser. The room was a downright mess, but he didn't feel inclined to straighten up. Or to do much of anything, for that matter. His stomach chose that moment to start grumbling, too, causing him to grumble as well.

A sigh left his lips as he leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed the closest bottle. He was slow sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before screwing off the cap and taking a short drink. This… He couldn't keep doing this. He'd be fine for now, but eventually—no, very soon—he'd run out of water. There were more drinks in the fridge downstairs, but soda and juice would only last a person so long. The food, what little there was, would dwindle down afterwards. Snacks didn't count, but they'd be next on the list. The electricity would run itself dry, and then what? Day time was fine, but night?

And then, right as he thought this over, he heard a sharp noise from outside his door. It was somewhat distant. Was that…breaking glass?

_She's not downstairs, is she?_

That was his first thought, and it brought on a sickening wave of anxiousness—until he remembered that it was light out. He had taken care to draw back every curtain, open every window, and flip on every light switch just a week ago when the idea first struck him. So she'd be stuck upstairs during the day and out of his way. So he wouldn't have to see how far she'd fallen, or those…those eyes. No, she wouldn't be out right now.

His second thought was, if it wasn't his mother, then it was a wild animal. Or one not so wild. A cat or a dog?

"Only one way to find out."

He muttered it to himself as he pushed his way out of bed, heading for the door. He padded out into the hallway—not before briefly eyeing then stepping around his mother's finger with a look of disgust—legs stiff from lack of use and gun gripped in one hand. (On the handle, of course, not the trigger…not yet.) The air was cool and welcome against his skin, causing him to shiver ever so slightly. Empty hallway. One door across from him, the bathroom, and three more to his left and right. In order, a closet, his room, his brother's, and his parents' room. A long stretch of worn down carpet that was an odd shade of red. (Or was it pink?) Then there were the stairs, the top of which looked as if something had sat down for hours and did nothing but gnaw at it. The carpet was frayed beyond repair, leaving a gaping hole and splinters of wood and spittle for the entire world to see.

_No. Just me._

At least, he had thought it was just him. But yet another glass object was broken, this time louder. Followed by a faint, "Shit…"

That's what stopped him in his tracks.

He peered over the banister, seeing nothing but stairs yet expecting more. Something else. There was a man down there… It wasn't possible. Shouldn't have been possible. Was it? And yet he was hearing—

Another noise. Shuffling, this time. Running water, briefly. They had to be in the kitchen, whoever they were. But…

_Everyone's dead. Either sick or dead. There can't be…_

But there was.

His initial instinct was to refuse to believe it, even as he started tiptoeing down the stairs, down the curved corridor that split two ways. The one on the right towards the living room, and the one on the left into the kitchen. He went left, careful not to make noise, poking his head slowly around the corner.

There was a man—maybe not too much older than him—crouched right in the middle of the kitchen with a small broom and dustpan in his hands, sweeping up broken bits of glass. He had a shock of red hair on his head, so vibrant that it looked surreal, with spikes sticking out in every which direction. And, from the looks of it, he was wearing one of Riku's brother's t-shirts, a deep gray one with a gold and maroon grunge design of a lion. He must have picked it up from the pile of clothes in the living room…

Riku put the thought out of his mind. Instead, he focused on his growing confusion. And anger. The stranger hadn't even noticed him yet, even though he was facing in Riku's direction. Too busy sweeping. And the teen took advantage of that moment to approach, pressing the mouth of his gun to the young man's forehead.

Only then did he take notice of the teen, green eyes widening and looking up. He froze, gripping the broom and dustpan tightly. "Whoa, whoa… Easy." Then he got a good look at the boy's face, thin brows scrunching together and a curious expression crossing his own face. "How old are you?"

"None of your business."

"I think it's my business if there's a minor pointing a gun at my head." In spite of his situation, the red head actually cracked a grin, a sort of smirk and grimace at the same time. His eyes swept down to the glass before looking back up. "Look, I broke it, I'll buy it. Make you feel better?"

Riku glared at the stranger then at the mess he'd made. His feet were an inch shy of the yellow shards, the brownish liquid underneath that had been mostly but not completely soaked up. Coffee. When he spotted a coffee stained piece with what looked like a sunflower painted on it, he felt a sharp pang in his heart. Those were his mother's favorite mugs. "You're supposed to use the heat resistant glasses, idiot."

Still, that grin. "Well excuse me for being ignorant."

Screw it. This guy was pissing him off. He let him know, too, pressing the weapon a little harder into the man's skull and pulling the trigger ever so slightly. Not enough to fire it, but enough to get the message across. "How did you get in here?"

"You're joking, right?" A look of disbelief. All traces of a smile vanished, and Riku felt a bit of satisfaction as the stranger's eyes narrowed and fixated on the gun. "Window. Living room."

"Why?"

"Food. As in, breakfast. I haven't eating in two days, bud. Is it too much to ask for a bowl of cereal and some coffee?"

He didn't know what it was, but for some reason he lowered the gun. Maybe it was the man's tone, strangely calm, considering he had a sleep deprived teenager on the verge of blowing his brains out. Part of Riku still didn't want to believe the stranger was here, was talking to him as if this sort of thing happened all the time. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be. Maybe he was dreaming? Maybe…

"Name's Axel, by the way."

The boy snapped out of his thoughts, staring at his intruder with something akin to awe. The red head was sweeping up the last of the glass heading towards the trash can next to the counter. When he was done, he set them down, returned to the cabinet he had left open, pulled out another mug (heat resistant this time) and set it beside the coffee maker Riku was surprised still worked.

Was this guy for real? He was introducing himself after nearly being shot to death? And, for some reason, the boy was introducing himself as well. "…Riku."

Axel nodded slightly, pouring what was left of his coffee and checking to see that the mug didn't explode from the heat before glancing back at Riku. And the smiled returned, along with an amused tone in his voice. "Wow, your face looks evil. What, you hate me or something?"

"I have to be dreaming… I'm not sure."

"So you were gonna put a bullet through my head to find out?"

"It crossed my mind, yeah."

"Rather you didn't."

They went about this as if they were discussing the weather. Back and forth while Axel sipped his drink, while he went back into the cabinet for a bowl then skimmed the kitchen for cereal. Riku found himself watching as the stranger shook out what he could from a box of Cheerios. Before said stranger could get to the fridge, he said, "There's no milk."

Axel paused. "Ah… Orange juice?"

"No. They both went bad."

That didn't stop Axel from searching the fridge anyway. Riku just stood rooted on the spot, watching him with an unreadable expression. "Bottled water and soda. Fun… Whatever." The man shut the fridge and went back to his cereal, grabbed a handful of pieces, then tossed them in his mouth as if he didn't have a care in the world.

And Riku just stared.

It wasn't until Axel was about halfway through his bowl that he gave Riku the same stare, perhaps a little disturbed. "What?"

"This…this is a weird dream."

"Not a dream, kid." Another handful, followed by a sip of coffee. "So, how long've you been squatting here?'

What? Wait. Riku narrowed his eyes angrily. "This is my house."

"Ah! No wonder you're so mad." Axel shook his head, pointed to the ceiling. "I heard a bunch of noise from upstairs last night, right after I settled in. I thought, maybe…it was one of them, you know? But I guess it was you?"

Last night? Right after he'd settled in? So, he not only broke into the house—in a way that didn't entirely count as breaking in, with the windows open and all—but he spent the night as well. With the lights on he wouldn't have had to worry about Riku's mother, either. His mother… The silver haired male clenched his free hand into a fist, loosened it, eyed the floor absently. "N…no."

"There's someone else?"

"My mom." Why was it so hard to get those two words out?

"Her hair graying too?"

At that, Riku's head shot up in shock. How did he…? He couldn't have known, unless he was guessing. And then it occurred to him that Axel was staring rather intently at his hair with a look he couldn't quite describe but still put him on edge. A dangerous look. Absently, he ran fingers through his hair. "I'm not sick. My hair's naturally this color."

Axel still had the look in his eye. "Uh-huh.'

"Think. Even if I _was_ sick, would I be out in the sunlight right now?"

He couldn't argue that point, falling silent, silent for so long that Riku almost thought he wasn't going to speak again. Then he came back with, "And your mom?"

Riku's pause was only slightly shorter. "She's probably…locked up in her room. She wanders at night, but stays hidden during the day. It's the only room where I left the lights off."

"And the curtains closed."

"Yeah."

No question, now. Axel was fully aware of the situation, continuing to give him a thoughtful look. "How long have you been here, Riku?"

_Why does it matter?_ "Almost a month."

"And you haven't left, haven't been outside at all. Not even once." It was a statement, not a question.

Riku gripped his gun slightly. "Do I look crazy?"

"I've been out on the streets, and I'll tell you now, I'd rather take my chances out there than in here. Especially with one of _them_ locked up with you."

"She's my mother."

"She's got the virus, right?"

What if she did? What did he know, this mystery man with his strange hair and his strange eyes and his strange words? What did he know at all about the woman, about Riku? What was the point of his questions? And what was it that made the teen so defensive all of a sudden?

"Look." The man's voice was soft, almost apologetic. He set the bowl down, wiped his hands together and brushed them on his jeans. "The best thing you could do for her is put her to rest…"

_No._

"You want me to kill my own mother?"

"She's already dead. The only thing that's 'alive' is that virus, or parasite, or whatever the hell you wanna call it. And it's using her body to screw with your head."

He couldn't possibly know…

Riku didn't say anything, merely stared. Hostile—but understanding what was being said.

Axel went on. "It tries to act like her, doesn't it? Tries to talk to you, convince you to get closer? Especially at night."

He couldn't possibly know, could he? How did he know? The question must have been clear in the boy's eyes, because Axel took on a look of pity right then and replied, "My brother got sick. Then my friend and his family. Then his girlfriend, and _her_ family, _her_ friends, and so on."

He illustrated with his fingers, counting them off as he went down the list. No longer joking or lighthearted. The red head was all seriousness now. "Do you see? It spread and spreads until, BAM, we're the only ones left in this dead man Wonderland. Well…maybe not the only ones. It's like a frikkin' Stephen King novel come true, or some shit."

"You think there are others?"

A nod. "How many people live—lived—in Sector 3? Now, out of all those people, just about 99.9 percent of them kicked the bucket, by my estimations anyway. What're the chances that I'd come across someone else—you—in that remaining 0.1 percent?"

"Slim. Extremely."

"And yet here I am, talking with you."

_Yeah, but…_

Riku was just one person. Just one, out of… There couldn't be others out there. Not with so many dead. But how could he know? He'd never actually gone outside himself and looked.

He frowned. "Is that why you're moving around?"

"Have been for the past few weeks. It's a routine. I wake up, scrounge for food, drive as far as I can for that day, then stop for the night and shack up. That is, if I can find a place to stay."

"If you can't?"

"I sleep in a tree. Boogers usually don't think to look up high, unless they smell blood on you. And even if they got close—" He stuck a pale hand in his jean pocket, pulling out a pocket knife. Not small, but nothing to write home about. Large enough to do serious harm if you knew how to use it. Though Riku would've preferred something long range. "Doesn't hurt to be too careful."

Again, the teen grew silent, eye balling the pocket knife, then Axel, then nothing in particular. His mind was partly there, partly in his own world, and partly nowhere at all. The green eyed stranger watched him with concern. "Riku…you shouldn't stay here."

"No." Why had he answered so quickly?

"You and I both know you can only last here so long. Your mom would understand, I'm sure."

"You don't know the first thing about her." What was he so afraid of? Why was he starting to shake?

"I do know that, eventually, you're gonna run out of supplies." Axel's voice was a bit cold now. Cold in a way that, somehow, signaled to Riku that he actually cared, that he was trying to talk some sense into him. "What happens when you run out of food? Water? Who's gonna fix your plumbing when the pipes finally clog or rust up, or when the electricity is on the fritz. Hell, what if it goes out? What then?"

Riku didn't say anything. He couldn't. Hadn't he just been thinking along the same lines not that long ago?

"You can't keep living here and expect it to be alright. Now, what you can do is come with me, and we can see who else is lost out there. Or you can sit here, perpetrate, and pretend like what I just said doesn't bother you."

Riku didn't say anything.

Axel let out a deep breath, scratched at the back of his head. "Do or die, but. Do or die. Your choice." He waited a beat for a response, and when there was none he replied, "Thanks for the food." Then he stepped out of the kitchen.

Riku still didn't say anything.

~x~

**Saturday Nov. 4, 6812; Sector 3**

Riku never said a word when the man took his pack and slung it over his shoulder. Not when he took three cans of chicken and rice from the cabinet and tucked them in his pack, or when he snagged an extra soda for the road. Not when he patted Riku on the shoulder and gave a somewhat cheery but mostly tired, "Thanks, kiddo." Not when he slipped out the door after making one hundred percent sure Riku wasn't going to change his mind. All that time and not one word. He was still a bit shocked, still very confused. After their conversation had died, his speechlessness just refused to leave.

He had a hard time shaking it now, as he stood by the front door and peeked out the window. The red head was by the curb, swinging a leg over his hovercycle, (Why had he suspected that it would be the same green as those eyes?), securing his bag carefully on his back. He caught Riku's gaze for a moment. Smiled slightly and lifted his hand in a salute-like wave.

And for a moment a feeling of dread washed over the boy. He couldn't explain it—didn't quite understand it. Milky green eyes were fixed on that cycle, though, and they didn't dare look away. _Do or die, bud. Do or die. Your choice._

But he couldn't just abandon his mother, sick or not. ...Dead...dead or not... This was his mother. The woman who had carried him for nine months and birthed him, who had taken care of him all seventeen years of his life. The woman who wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but still very lovable. The woman who always fussed at him to stop annoying his brother, and at his brother to stop bullying him. The woman that was old fashioned enough to still make bag lunches for her kids. The woman who loved them unconditionally.

The woman who'd fallen ill, whose hair had started turning grayer and grayer until it lost all color. Whose skin had paled to that sickly white, whose eyes had… This was also the woman who'd attacked his brother in the dead of the night, when they hadn't been careful enough, hadn't been paying attention that night in the living room… The same woman who'd infected her husband but then ripped him to pieces for food when her hunger had become too great…

_You can't live with that. First Sephiroth. Then Dad. And…you can't kill her. You wouldn't even try it. There's no way you could._

_You'll be next if you don't go._

And before he realized it he was gripping the window sill, leaning out of the open frame. "AXEL!"

The man had already started his vehicle, already started floating those eight or so inches off of the pavement, but he didn't leave, shocked by the sudden call. He arched an eyebrow, earning a determined, if somewhat desperate, look in response.

"Give me a few minutes to pack some things."

He was quiet for a moment. Then that damned smile broke out on his face again. "Pack light, kid."

~x~

**Redone:** Jan. 3, 2012

**Edited:** Jan. 5, 2012


	2. Roxas: Running

**. author's note .**

Love my campus. Love my dorm. Love my classes. Adore my roommate. This will be a fun semester.

Any who, on with the story.

* * *

**. roxas .**

"_Welcome to Eden Express. Next location—Sector Seven, Area Nine. Estimated travel time—two hours and thirty-seven minutes. Would you like to watch a movie?"_

"No."

"_Would you like to order dinner? Our special today is—"_

"No."

"_Would you like to order—"_'

"No, I said no. How do you get this thing to shut up?"

Amused blue eyes glanced over at the exasperated speaker. Two boys, one blonde and one brunette. If one didn't know any better, they would mistake the two for twins. Of course, all these years, they were used to it by now. It happened wherever they went. Even this morning, when they checked onto the EE, the clerk at the ticket desk had referred to the two as brothers. Had almost put them into the system as siblings until the two politely explained that they were merely friends traveling together.

And it was in suite 42A of the Eden Express—a sort of train and ship mixed together, one of enormous proportions—that the two stayed. Their room was very much like a hotel room, complete with a couple of sofas in the resting area, a flat screen facing those two sofas, two twin beds, a bathroom to the far right, a dining area, an expansive window view of the express railway directly next to it… On nights like these, the only thing the passengers could truly see from their rooms was the railway giving off a dim gray light. And perhaps the stars and moon poking out in the inky sky above, but just faintly.

The blonde friend glanced out that window now as the brunette approached the side of his bed. He had a pair of headphones draped around his neck, and in front of him, a dim powder blue screen floating inches above his criss-crossed legs. On the screen was a miniature layout of their destination. Eden. The mini sphere rotated, different labels flashing up beside the corresponding dots on the map.

Sectors One, Two, and Three. Red dots. Lower class. Closed off until further notice, as the news put it. Why, no one could be sure. That information was never disclosed…

Sectors Four, Five, and Six. Yellow dots. Highly populated areas, the middle class. A pleasant area to live in, with everything within driving distance. The three locations were connected by a subway system that ran in a complete circle then branched off into different paths for the next four sectors.

Sectors Seven, Eight, and Nine. Upper class. Not as vastly populated, but busy. Elegant, extravagant. Expansive. The green dots, and for very good reason.

Then there was Sector Ten. A black dot. Restricted to civilians, accessible to certain individuals with the right connections, with authority. No housing districts whatsoever, but home to the very people that had designed the buildings and structures covering the vast planet that was Eden.

Beneath all of this, the labels and the rotating globe, were the words: _**The Royal Republic of Eden. The New Paradise.**_

The blonde looked back to the screen, skimming the popup that had appeared next to it, the one he couldn't discover how to close for the life of him. His companion leaned over, examining it. "What's wrong?"

"This stupid popup—"

"_Welcome to Eden Express. Next location—Sector Seven, Area Nine. Estimated travel time…"_

"—keeps repeating itself, and I can't—"

"…_utes. Would you like to watch a movie?"_

"—get it to shut up. Every time I close it, it comes back."

"_Would you like to order dinner? Our special…"_

"Maybe it's a glitch?"

"Well, it's an annoying glitch."

The brunette laughed, poked a finger to the miniscule 'X' at the top right of the popup. Away it went. Then back it came. The same feminine voice greeted him. He shrugged, seated himself beside his friend on the bed. "I don't know, Rox. Maybe you need to call Maintenance."

Roxas tried closing the window once more, only to have it pop back up again. He gave an aggravated sigh. "You do it."

"It's your problem. You take care of it."

"You're such a caring friend, Sora."

The response elicited another amused smile from the brunette. Stretching his arms high into the air before folding them behind his head, he fell back into his friend's pillow, staring up at him. "Isn't it enough that I'm coming out here with you for your brother's wedding?"

At that, the joking stopped. The slight smile that had crossed Roxas' face disappeared, and his expression became solemn. Instantly Sora regretted bringing the topic up.

The blonde stared out the window again, thoughtful. "You think he'll go through with it?"

Sora shifted in the bed so that he lay on his side. "Why wouldn't he?"

"He just moved to Eden."

"That was months ago."

"_Our special today is—"_

"It feels too soon…"

"Not really."

"He doesn't love her."

Sora narrowed his eyes, scowling. "Has he ever said that to you?"

"_Welcome to Eden Express. Next location—"_

"Shut up, damn thing…"

"Roxas?"

He looked to Sora with an exasperated expression, ignoring the window for the time being, (even though it was really beginning to wear his nerves thin). "He's never had to say it. I know Cloud, I get how he feels. He likes her, but he doesn't love her."

"That can change…maybe. Just give them time."

He didn't get it. Sora never got it. Even though he could talk to the brunette about pretty much anything and have someone who understood his feelings, this was one thing that they couldn't see eye to eye on. Sora didn't have the same problem, didn't have to go through the same thing so he wouldn't know. Wouldn't sympathize.

_This is why parents should stop picking their children's spouses before they're even born…_

It was common knowledge, really. While other worlds had moved on from the past, the planet of Luma…was one stuck in tradition. It was there that the higher class—a good portion of the population—held on to their old practices and such beliefs that marrying into a lower class soiled family blood. Where, in order to prevent such a belief from happening, young boys had their wives chosen by their parents long before they came into the world. Where such bonds were sacred. Where young men were to court their future wife from as early as age eight. Where the bond must never be broken. Not through infidelity, nor through premature…activities (whether it be with one's future spouse or another individual.) Where the punishment, if ever the bond was broken, was disownment and banishment from one's household.

That's what he and Cloud faced, if ever they broke off their engagements. And he hated it.

Sora wasn't from Luma, so he didn't quite get the culture or the effect it had on his friend. The brides to be in question weren't the problem. No, in fact the blonde saw his own fiancé as one of his closest friends. But that was just it. She was nothing more than a close friend. The problem was the fact that the two of them had no say in the matter, that they were being forced into a life changing commitment by their parents. Ever since he first realized and truly understood the kind of decision that had been made, he wanted out.

The question was, did Cloud?

"Tifa's nice, Roxas," Sora went on quietly, still eyeballing his friend. "And she and Cloud really get along."

Roxas sighed, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his chin on top of his knees. "Doesn't mean he's happy. Doesn't mean she's happy either."

"_Would you like to order dinner?"_

"The wedding's in three days. It's not like they can just change their minds."

"Sure they can."

"_Our special today is—"_

"He'll go through with it, Rox. And they'll both be happy, so stop worrying."

But why? Why stop worrying? Why was he so confident that Cloud wouldn't change his mind? Was it because, perhaps, Sora might be right? Maybe the couple would fall in love later, maybe they could be happy together.

_But it doesn't work that way. Realistically… It would never work that way._ He knew this for a fact. There would never be any love in that relationship, not the love one would expect between husband and wife. His brother had already told him that there was someone else. Someone he couldn't be with. Someone he had begged Roxas—though it wasn't necessary—not to tell their parents about.

Another man.

The younger blonde had only met the man once, when he had last visited his brother. He hadn't moved to Eden then, still had his house on Luma. Squall was his name—though Cloud called him Leon—and Roxas knew right off the bat what kind of connection the two men shared, before his brother had even mustered the courage to tell him. It was strange and off putting at first. But, after staying for a couple of weeks with the two, he knew for sure…

He knew that the way Cloud looked at Leon was nothing compared to how he looked at Tifa. The way Cloud _felt_ about this man was far greater than how he felt about Tifa.

"…_Area Nine. Estimated travel time—two hours…"_

"Fucking—" Refocusing his thoughts, Roxas swiped at the floating window, causing it to go fuzzy for a couple of seconds then clear up. He groaned angrily, standing up from the bed. "Screw this thing. I'm going to Maintenance."

Sora sighed, sitting up himself. "Okay. And Roxas? Don't worry too much, okay?"

But the boy was already out the door before he could finish the sentence.

* * *

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir."

"It's alright… So this should fix it?"

"Yes sir."

The Main Cart. A front desk of sorts that could be found on each level of the EE. (That would make three MCs in total. Grandeur was nothing new to Eden.) The uniformed red head sitting behind the desk gave a bow of the head, apology written all over her face. "Every now and then we get a kink that needs working out. Some of the Screens haven't been acting properly, so I apologize. Just make sure you swipe that through, and it should reset itself."

Roxas looked at the small card she had handed him a second ago, examining the golden logo printed on front. He nodded, tucking the card into his pocket. "Thank you."

"Have a nice night, sir."

_Sure…_

To be honest, thoughts of his brother and his illegitimate love were still on his mind, troubling him. Then thoughts of his own betrothed surfaced. Sure, they wouldn't be legally joined for almost another decade…but still.

Slowly, he made his way down the corridor of the train. It was empty this time of night, what with everyone sleeping, grabbing a late meal, or hanging around in one of the several game or movie rooms. Maybe even taking a virtual night on the town in one of the Screening rooms. On his side was a long stretch of windows, similar to the one in his and Sora's suite, only larger.

There was a bit more to see now, other than just the rail. More stars, for one, and the moon floating distantly and lighting the sky with a soft glow. Then there were the occasional clusters of dust and meteorites, too small to deal any real damage. More planets in the distance, smaller ones, minor ones no one truly cared about. From here he could see Luma, lavender in color, much smaller than the moon from this distance. Three days of riding had made it shrink and shrink and shrink…

His parents were still there, packing away the last of their things so that they could make the final commute to Eden after the wedding. So that they could move into their new home permanently and live near their son and his new family…

"It's horrible, isn't it?"

The blonde jumped at the sudden voice, turning to see where it came from. Only then did he realize that he had stopped walking, that he was pressed very close to the glass of the window. There was a girl by his side, around his age, peering out the window as well. When had she showed up? He hadn't even heard her…

Her hair was pulled up into a tightly wound bun with a few yellow strands poking out. The white gown she wore and the silver crest symbol stitched into the design betrayed the fact that she was, if possible, in a higher class than his family. She was of royal background; that much he knew.

He blinked a couple of times, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Nights like these."

She was watching the night intently with those large blue eyes, a sort of resigned look on her face. He peered back through the window but saw nothing of interest. What was she talking about?

"I don't think I understand," Roxas replied, glancing back at the girl.

She sighed, fell silent for a moment. Then: "It's like it's sucking you in. You know? It makes you feel really small, really insignificant. Like one of those specks of dust."

"I guess."

"And then…the stars look so close, and the moon too. Makes you think you can reach out and touch them, right? Like, if you can do that, you can do anything."

"I suppose."

She was strange. Not in a creepy way, no. He couldn't quite explain it. But she was very odd… Not once did she look from the window, folding her hands neatly in front of her and falling silent once more. Roxas wasn't quite sure what to think, or what else to say. He waited to see if she would speak again, but she didn't.

After what seemed like forever, he asked, "Um…are you okay?"

The girl was still, and then she timidly shook her head. She looked like she was about to cry.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Silence. Her hands clenched together. "Have you ever…ever been forced to do something you didn't want to do?"

_What?_ Yet…something inside of him knew the answer even before he did. Knew exactly what she meant, where she was coming from. "Everyone…has moments where it feels like that, I'm sure."

"But have you ever been forced into anything?" She looked at him now, truly looked at him and saw him, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Something you'd give anything to get out of?"

How strange… His situation, and then her questions. How very strange… "Sort of."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing… I haven't done anything yet."

"If you could, would you run? If it meant hurting someone you cared about?"

_What exactly is she talking about?_

He didn't know how to respond, not to such direct questions such as these. Not with the way her tears were cascading down her face, even though her voice remained calm and even. It made him wonder what, exactly, was she going through? What was it that drove this young woman to tears?

Without really thinking, he lifted a hand to wipe at her face. "I don't know. It depends… Please don't cry; it's kind of awkward…"

"I'm sorry." But she didn't stop.

He wiped at one side, then the other, before she started drying her eyes herself and looked away. The blonde girl gave a weak laugh, shaking her head. "Look at me. I'm freaking you out and I don't even know you…"

"Are you a princess?"

She shook her head once more. "The daughter of one. My grandmother's more of a figurehead in our land nowadays, though."

"Where?"

"C'ia."

"Oh."

He'd heard about it, but didn't know much. It was a small planet hiding in a small corner in space. Still clinging onto its royal family like many other areas sprinkled about the galaxy. Why she was so far from home, however, was a mystery to him.

Roxas paused for a moment, ready to move on but not quite sure he should just abandon the poor girl. "If you don't mind me asking…"

"I do," she replied quietly, politely, still wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have bothered you."

"It's fine."

She stared back out the window, sniffing. Roxas lifted a hand, almost as if to pat her shoulder, but thought better of it. Slowly he turned to head past her, back to his room, but paused. "I hope, whatever it is, it gets better for you."

That brought a smile to her face, however slight. "And for you, too."

He eyed her curiously. "What?"

"You looked really sad when I walked up…"

Ah… They both had their problems, he guessed.

"I'm Roxas."

"Naminé."

"Feel better."

"Thank you."

And he left her to stare, teary eyed, out the window.

* * *

It was early morning by the time they arrived in Eden. They had filed off the EE, checked out at the nearest station, then caught a ride from one of the chauffeurs that Tifa's father had sent to pick them up. (Father in law, he supposed he should start calling him… That was right, wasn't it?) After the drive to the Lockhart estate, the two teens were directed to their separate quarters where they had the chance to eat breakfast and then rest for the rest of the morning until the groom arrived.

During all of this—being ushered into the house and waited on hand and foot—there was talk of postponing the wedding. According to the maid that had shown Roxas to his room, the young mistress wasn't feeling too well. In fact, she had been in bed back at the main house with a cold for the past week…or so she heard. She hadn't been to the main estate herself, so she couldn't be entirely sure.

It worried him, but at the same time…as horrible as it sounded, he was a bit glad. He didn't want to go through with this wedding. Not just because he wanted to refuse to go through with his in the end, but because he knew the truth of his brother's feelings.

"Excuse me," Roxas asked the maid before she could disappear out of the door.

She looked up at him curiously.

"Do you know if a Squall or Leon is on the guest list?"

"No sir. I could check."

"No… That's fine."

_Of course… Why would he want to go to his lover's wedding, idiot?_ Then again…you never knew.

Roxas nodded, waving the woman off. She bowed then left the room, leaving him to his thoughts. He couldn't help but think about that girl from the trip, the princess of a princess. He wondered if she had come to Sector Seven as well, or if she went to a different one. And those tears… He couldn't forget her tears.

_If you could, would you run?_

That was a good question. Too bad he didn't know the answer.


	3. Axel: How They Met

**. axel .**

"Axel…"

"What?"

"Let's find someplace else for the night."

"Why, what's wrong?"

He hadn't realized just where—or what, for that matter—that foul smell had been coming from until his new silver haired companion pointed it out.

It was getting late. Going on six-thirty. Sure, perhaps it wasn't what constituted as "late" to some other people, but when you were trying to avoid flesh eating beasts of the night, (Oh, how _Night of the Living Dead_ that sounded!), it was pretty close to pushing your luck. That was why they had parked near the closest house they could find that evening, in a neighborhood much smaller than Riku's. (If that was even possible…) Nothing run down, or anything, but quiet enough and pressed in enough to make one feel claustrophobic. Not like they had a choice.

They chose one of the few houses, a canary yellow one that still had the lights turned on. That still had all of its windows intact and closed. Only the front door had been left unlocked, but the two young men hadn't thought much of it. Though they had their weapons out and ready just in case.

A rancid smell filled the entry way, a smell Axel couldn't quite describe. Not accurately. Like old meat left raw and abandoned in a hole somewhere, rotting. It made him sick to his stomach, and he couldn't help but wonder if, maybe, they could try the next house instead. He'd settled his bag next to Riku's along the wall by the door, watched as the teen wandered past him and checked the hallway. The doors that were closed and especially the doors that were open. It was single story, so they wouldn't have to worry about stairs. (He'd learned days ago not to trust multi-story houses if he could avoid it. Riku's had been a well-lit and well-supplied exception.)

It was only when Riku rounded back and peered into what appeared to be the living room that the source of the smell became clear. The boy crinkled up his nose and took a large step back from the doorway, shaking his head and pointing. Axel approached his side and peered in as well. Let out a heavy sigh at what he saw. "Well, then…"

A little girl's body. Or what was left of it. It had to have been a girl, what with pink sneakers and matching socks. Or maybe the child had had a sweet side… He or she—no, he'd assume it was a she—couldn't have been much older than ten. Maybe even younger, with feet that small. Her t-shirt had been ripped and scratched apart, her jeans torn, with strips of fabric stained deep red around her. Everything from her waist down remained. The rest was a bloodied mess of pink and red and black and green… Shreds of her inner workings were scattered about the carpet, as if a wild animal had decided that _killing_ her wouldn't be enough, no, but it had to gnaw on her, had to _spill_ everything _everywhere._ And the smell got so intense, and the mess was so intense, that…

"Move," Riku choked out, pushing past Axel and running back into the hallway. The red head didn't watch him, but the sound of the boy retching onto the floor was explanation enough. No, he couldn't blame him…

Yeah, they needed another place to stay. Whatever had gotten to her couldn't have been too far off.

Axel, deeply disturbed, turned from the scene and headed for his bag. Grabbed a half empty bottle of water from it and held it out beside Riku. The boy was still doubled over, coughing now, hands on his knees and eyes clamped shut. Axel shook the bottle slightly. "Here."

A pause. Some more disheveled coughing and a shake of the head before, finally, he grabbed the bottle and took a swig. He stood rooted on spot for a moment, then he headed back out the front door and spat into the grass.

"So…looks like we're back on the road again," Axel said as he grabbed their things and walked back outside as well. He shut the door behind him, shooting a concerned look in Riku's direction. "You know, unless you want to sleep out here for the night. But something tells me, with your weak constitution, that you wouldn't be able to handle camping out in a tree."

"Screw you."

"It's a joke, jeez. Lighten up."

No, but it was clear just how disturbed the boy was. Just how upset he was, and Axel couldn't claim that he didn't feel the same deep down. The main difference between the two of them, though, was that he had seen a lot more scenes similar to this one, whereas his companion had spent most of his time locked up in his house. Scratch that, the entire time. It still amazed him that the other had pulled something like that off, and with his mother prowling about every night, no less. That sort of thing had to be rough…

But he had to suck it up now. They were on the outside, had to keep moving. They didn't have the time for Axel to pat him on the back and tell him that everything would be okay in the end.

_There's no guarantee of that,_ he thought bitterly, walking towards the hovercycle. "C'mon, let's go."

Riku wiped the back of his arm against his mouth, shooting the man a weary expression. "Where?"

"Anywhere but here."

There was no objection to that.

* * *

It was like he had some sort of emotional wall built around him. Axel wondered if he was that way with his family as well—before they met their unfortunate fate. Every time the red head tried to get him talking—truly talking and opening up to him rather than repeatedly asking him what time it was, how late it was getting—he was answered with either silence or a single word response. Maybe the scene from before was still fresh in his mind, tormenting him. Or maybe Riku just didn't speak that much period. He wasn't sure. Either way, the man had given up on trying to make polite conversation and focused on driving.

Tried to, in any case. Every few minutes he'd see a flash of red in his head, see that remaining mangled half of that poor girl's body, saw body parts scattered about and…

"I need to stop thinking about this shit…" he muttered to himself.

Riku had heard him over the light purr of the vehicle, shifting slightly in his seat behind the man. "What?"

"Nothing."

They zipped down the dark streets, weaving in and out of cars that were crammed onto the road. Some had been parked, others had crashed into walls or other cars, even houses. Every which way, a tangled mess of colorful metals and a musty smell drifting into the air.

None of the vehicles were occupied, and each one had broken windows.

As they drove further and further away from the neighborhood, they entered a smaller part of town. Abandoned supermarkets, small time restaurants, a car dealership, a circular shopping center that wasn't very impressive… Just building after building. And of course they didn't have their lights on. That didn't necessarily mean that they weren't working, but Axel didn't want to chance it just now. They needed a light. Even if it was just one, even if it was faint... And why were there no trees? Usually he could find at least one, but today it was like some higher force from above had plucked each and every one away just to spite him.

If he had enough fuel to burn, he would have kicked up the elevation a couple of notches, dragged them high enough to fly right over the mess in the streets and the occasional car jam that crossed their path. Had he been _thinking_, he would have realized that there wasn't enough fuel for him to burn; in fact, the digital needle was hovering dangerously close to "E" at the moment, but his mind was elsewhere. It was only when the machine gave off a light, "Warning. Warning. Warning—" and subsequently cut off in midair that he realized what a boo-boo had been made.

The hovercycle gave way, careening to one side as if being tugged by an invisible force, causing both Riku and Axel to cry out in shock. Luckily, they weren't too far above the ground, but it was a painful crash nonetheless. They ended up in a tangle of arms and legs and fallen backpacks along the edge of the road, smushed against the rear end of a blue truck with its headlights scratched off.

"The hell, Axel—are you _trying_ to kill us?" Riku was fuming, disentangling himself from the red head and pushing himself to his feet. In spite of his rant and the scowl set upon his face, he held out a hand to help the man up as well. "What, you forgot how to drive or something?"

The red head gave a groan, allowing the boy to help him to his feet before he headed over to examine the crashed vehicle. "We ran out of gas," Axel replied almost matter-of-factly. Mostly out of exasperation. That only served to upset the boy further.

"Did you not fill it up before you drove all the way out here? You should at least check that thing regularly, see if we're low—"

"It ain't mine."

A confused look. "What?"

He shook his head, bent down to grab their bags and the contents that had slipped out of them. Canned food, bottled water, his now empty soda, a small opened pack of plastic forks and spoons… "I snatched it a few days back from someone's driveway. I was surprised I'd find something that expensive just lying around, you know? Then again…"

"You still…you still should have checked to fuel gauge."

"And do what about it? You need a gas card if you wanna fuel up, and you can't fuel up without someone to activate that card." He pointed an annoyed look at the teen, as if saying, "Come on, you should know this."

"Yeah, but…"

"But nothing. Just means we're walking from this point on."

An enthusiastic shake of the head. "No. It's getting too late."

Axel arched an eyebrow at that, digging out his cell from his pocket and checking the time. Eight-twelve. Crap, had that much time passed already? That wouldn't do.

Silent (and growing considerably more anxious with each passing minute), he skimmed their surroundings, finally picking out a single building and pointing at it with a lithe finger. No broken windows. A small parking lot was out front, though the few cars that were parked had been tipped over and dismantled. There were bold, white letters adorning the front of the building. _Brauer Elementary School._ In one corner of the building—it was faint, but he could still see it—sat a room with its light still on.

Bingo. "There."

Riku's gaze drifted towards where the strange man was pointing. Aqua eyes narrowed. "There?"

"That's what I said."

He was already abandoning the now trashed hovercycle, making his way towards the building. Some of their things were still in his hands, but he shoved them into the packs as he walked. The sound of Riku's stumbling footsteps following after him met his ears.

It wasn't that far a walk. No, not as far as he had anticipated. They ended up slipping through the crinkled grass towards that one corner of the school, following the light emitting from the room.

"Mm…"

"Look—" Axel whipped around, impatience lacing his tone, and staring down at the skeptical teen that refused to step any closer towards the window than necessary. "—does it look like we've got the time of day for you to be picky right now?"

And the harshness with which he spoke must have made something in Riku snap, because he earned a sharp, "And what happens if we get attacked in there?" in response.

Yes. He got it. The guy was scared. Hell, Axel was scared too. He'd be insane not to be. But who was Riku going to trust? His inner-self, the one still thinking about his mother, about that little girl's corpse, about running back home and locking himself back in his room… Or was he going to trust the man in front of him, the one who had been on the streets for the past few weeks and knew enough to survive?

Axel sighed. _This guy's making my head hurt…_

"Okay, fine," he said after a while, setting the bags in front of Riku's feet. He dug out his pocket knife, held it out in front of his reluctant companion. His free hand was outstretched as well, expectant. Riku eyed both, his face a question mark.

"Give me your gun," Axel explained.

Riku still didn't seem to get it.

"Since you're so damn scared, give me your gun and I'll go check it out myself. If it's all clear, I'll come back and get you. If not, I'll shoot three times and you run like hell."

There was a moment where he looked like he was about to argue once more—but it passed, and with a small sigh Riku was bent over digging the gun from his bag and handing it to the man. He took Axel's pocket knife, switching it open, examining it closer as if he were sizing it up. He didn't say anything, instead gave the red head a nod. Then Axel turned back to the window, slipped it open, and climbed in.

It was an English classroom. There were posters just barely hanging onto the walls for dear life, but he could make out the numerous puns and jokes that stared him in the face. Pictures of Garfield performing several antics, phrases that were far too cheesy and clichéd but still amusing and true in their own way. _Do the Write Thing. Learn to Listen, Listen to Learn. If you have the time to do it wrong, you have the time to do it again. Respect_, in golden letters. And so on.

Students' desk had been overturned, torn apart…but most of them had been pushed off to one side of the room, barricading the door. The teacher's desk was still in one piece, neatly set up and facing the rest of the chaos. Papers had been torn apart, pencils snapped, pen laying in small puddles of black and blue ink. All of this mess, and yet it looked like someone had made an effort at cleaning up… The cubbies had been filled with trash and snack foods and bottled water… A tooth brush, floss, toothpaste, deodorant, lotion, and…

"Are those tampons?"

Axel jumped at the sound of Riku's voice.

He hadn't expected the boy to slip in as well, at least not until he had cleared the entire area, but he figured it was understandable. If he had the choice, he wouldn't have opted to stand out in the open in the dead of the night either. So Axel said nothing when Riku set their things against the wall by the window, gripped his pocket knife tightly in one hand and looked about the room. He was currently eyeing the cubbies as well, and Axel couldn't suppress the faint grin the crossed his lips. "Why? You need one?"

"You're cute, you know that?"

"I try."

"There's a sleeping bag, too," Riku noted, walking past the red head and kneeling down. Indeed, there was a sleeping bag in the middle of the room, a Pocahontas print, with a makeshift pillow. (Simply a lime jacket folded into a neat square.)

Huh. Well, it looked like they weren't alone. Interesting. The question was…

"Where is she?" Axel found himself saying, not necessarily to Riku, not necessarily to anyone or anything in particular. He looked around the classroom again, finding nothing new, nothing else that stood out. "Maybe she's—"

"Don't say it," Riku snapped quietly, causing green eyes to eye him questioningly. There was an unreadable expression on his face, but Axel had a couple of guesses as to what was on the male's mind.

Pushed the broken chairs aside, they did, at least so they could get through the door. Into the hallway, only to pause for a moment. It was dark… Not dark like the breezy night air outside, no, but dark in an ominous sort of way. In the way it was once someone switched the lights off in a small room. The lights above…most of them were busted, wires hanging out, broken bits of glass littering the floor. They tried to step around it. Everything was so still, so quiet—Axel could hear the echo his shoes made on the linoleum floor, the tiny crunch of glass. He could hear the echo of Riku's shoes. His breathing, light and innocent yet annoying to the red head at the moment.

So much for him scouting the place by himself. Oh well… No, this was better. He wouldn't say it out loud, wouldn't admit it, but he didn't want to be alone. Not right now, not in here...

So far, so good. Why was it so silent, so eerie in here? Was it possible, maybe, there really wasn't anything lurking around at all? Maybe this was just an abandoned building that had been trashed nights before, maybe even last night, and the inhabitants were… Well, not here. Hiding, maybe. Maybe there had been a lone teacher, one survivor, who decided to barricade herself in her own classroom. Maybe she was just out at the moment, using the restroom or checking to see what other lights were working, or—

_Sh-unk!_

Something fell. Muffled from behind the walls, but audible nonetheless.

They both froze at the sound, tense. Axel's grip on the gun's handle tightened—damn, it was _heavy._ Why did it feel so heavy? He'd used one before, once when he was younger, but this…

_Sh-unk!_

Again. Closer this time. It was coming from the teacher's lounge. Just footsteps away, with its door closed tight. Scratch marks decorated the wood, the doorknob had been yanked off… Somewhere from behind him Riku shifted, paused, then stepped closer towards the door. Axel could only watch as the teen slipped a finger through the hole where the doorknob should have been and slowly pulled it open.

Empty… At least, it appeared that way. Riku stood still, looking in. Then he crept his way inside with Axel following after him.

More broken lights, sprinkled glass. A handful of snapped round tables, broken chairs strewn across the room. Ripped up love seats, a smashed vending machine. Most of the snacks were gone. Huh… And there was a door across from them, hanging open, dark inside. What was in there, they couldn't be sure.

Axel wasn't even sure if he was breathing any more.

"You wanna head back," Riku whispered, "or keep going?"

And, for whatever insane reason that had yet to manifest itself coherently inside Axel's head, he replied with, "Keep going."

He couldn't see it, the expression on Riku's face, but he was sure it wasn't pleasant. Nonetheless, they pressed on.

_I should have brought a flashlight,_ Axel chastised himself. _Or at least found one. Something…_ They were already in the room, though, heads shifting this way and that in search of the source of the ominous noise. This area was much smaller than the rest of the lounge. There were a few cabinets, a counter. A printer and copier facing them, though both machines were broken as well. And…

_Fuck!_

There was something hiding in the corner of the room, moving towards them. He spotted it before Riku did. He was lifting the gun up, aiming at the figure approaching Riku from behind while the teen whipped around and brandished the knife in his hand.

At that point, three different things happened at roughly the same time:

1. Axel realized, before his finger could pull any further on the trigger, that his target wasn't the sickly, golden-eyed, flesh-eating victim he had expected it to be, but a perfectly healthy looking girl clutching a baseball bat.

2. Said girl let out a savage yell and swung said baseball bat with impressive strength and speed before Axel could even call out to Riku and tell him not to attack.

And,

3. Poor Riku realized a second too late what was going on before the metal of the bat collided with his face and knocked him flat on his back.

After that, it was silent for a long moment. The girl looked like she was about to launch another attack, but her arms grew limp and the bat fell to the floor when she got a closer look at her target. Her eyes widened, she took a step back, and a shocked whisper of, "Oh my God…" left her lips. Like she couldn't believe she had just done what she did.

All Axel could do was stare at her with the same shocked expression, gun now lowered in his shaking hands. A few more seconds passed, then the girl looked up at him. He shook his head. "He's not… He wasn't sick."

She still had that shocked look on her face, taking another step back. "B-but…his hair…"

"Naturally that way."

"Oh my God…"

Why…why was he laughing? Why was he laughing at this?

It was quiet at first, just a chuckle, but it grew a bit louder. Almost relieved, but not quite. More hysterical. Nervous laughter. Axel kept shaking his head, dragged a hand down his face. His arms were shaking. "We thought you were… Shit." _Stop laughing, this isn't funny. I was fucking scared a second ago. This isn't funny…_ "Help me, alright? Grab that knife."

The girl stood frozen on the spot, staring down at Riku's unconscious body, at the knife that had fallen from his hand and onto the floor beside him. She still looked scared, still shocked. Couldn't believe that she had knocked the boy out, that he _wasn't_ sick. Her whole body was shaking, and the bat still clutched in her hands made an annoying grating sound against the titled floor. Axel's voice came out soft, hoarse. "I said help me. I need you to carry that knife. And bring your bat, too."

"O…oh. R-right… Sorry."

He lifted the boy, hoisted him up piggy back style. Riku's head lolled onto his shoulder, silver hair draping most of his face. Axel noted that his eye was bruised and his forehead was bleeding, and sighed. Hot damn, she knew how to use a bat... He looked back, making sure the girl was doing as she was told. Then, silently, they filed out of the lounge and headed towards the barricaded classroom. Towards the light still glowing invitingly in the hallway.

And that, strangely enough, was how the two had first crossed paths with young Yuffie.


	4. Zexion: Vertigo

**Date Unknown; Sector ?**

It was…dark. Why couldn't he open his eyes? They refused to move. Why…? And voices were going through his head, faint, repeating and stumbling over each other, running through each other—

~x~

"_**Give him another dose." A feminine voice. Sure…calm… Tired. "And take that thing off his mouth."**_

"_**But…" A timid voice. Another girl.**_

"_**No buts. He's a human being, not some kind of animal."**_

_**Hesitation, reluctance. Then he felt a small pair of hands brush against his face, and—**_

~x~

_They were warm. His hands. They felt nice against his skin. Calming, almost. He wanted to melt into that warmth, let it wrap around him like some sort of loving serpent… And there was a voice, concerned, talking to him. His vision was far too fuzzy around the edges for him to make out anything, but that voice was enough._

"_Are you… You're like me, aren't you? Hey…"_

~x~

What was wrong with these pictures? They didn't match up… Why—

~x~

_**And yelling.**_

_**There were flashes of color before him, floods of movement around him. And talking, but he could barely understand. It was jumbled up and bunched together, like static gibberish clawing at his ears. Anything…he'd give anything to make the noise stop.**_

_**Screaming now. He felt himself move, lunge forward and a savage snarl tore itself from his lips. It was eerie… Was that really him? That growl that reminded him of a feral dog or wolf, that animalistic sound? Then he felt more warmth on his mouth, his lips and face, and if he didn't know any better he would have admitted to seeing a splash—no, a wave—of red and pink flying everywhere…**_

_**And shrieking. Pained, horrible, more running…**_

"_**Barricade the door!"**_

"_**Oh my God—OH MY GOD!"**_

_**And then—**_

~x~

"_Hey."_

_A jolt. Someone was shaking him gently, calling his name. That same musical voice that he'd grown accustomed to over the days. Worry laced its tone. So close. "Hey, Zexion? You sick again?"_

~x~

_**Sick. The whole thing was sick, and yet he couldn't stop. The screaming continued, closer now, and… Was someone crying? It was a young man, crawling on the floor, away from him and towards the door. And he moved closer towards that pitiful, sobbing, pleading man.**_

"_**Please…p-please, someone help—"**_

_**But it was too late, because Zexion felt himself lunge once more.**_

~x~

_Dawn. No, a little later than that. The sun was poking out. It hurt his eyes…made them itch. He looked away from the window, lifting the blanket draped around his shoulders onto his head. There was a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, like some trapped animal was trying to claw its way out. It made his skin crawl, just thinking about it…_

_That same warm voice called his name softly and he answered with a raspy, "What?"_

"_It still burns?"_

"…" _He didn't answer, didn't want to think about it. Yes, his whole being was on fire and felt ready to explode, and his eyes were sore and his bones ached, and this man in front of him smelled really nice, really appetizing, and… But he didn't want to think about it. He managed to give a slight groan instead._

_The voice—the man—gave a sigh. "I swear, you're high maintenance. We're gonna have to leave soon, too…"_

"_Demyx…" His throat hurt, making it painful to use his voice, but he ignored it._

_He couldn't see, but he was sure his companion was staring down at him curiously. "What's wrong?"_

"_Why are you still with me?"_

_A pause here. A very long pause. Not once did he move the blanket from his head, not once did he look at the pained expression that he was sure was on his companion's face. Finally:_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You know what I mean."_

"_Why shouldn't I be?"_

"_Because, I'm…"_

"_Zex." It was the small, soothing way that Demyx called his name that made him stop mid-sentence. Before he knew it, the blonde was kneeling down and lifting the blanket from his head, just slightly, staring at him with shocking blue green eyes. Comforting eyes. There was a slight smile on his face, charming. Everything about him was charming in its own way… His voice was quiet. "You need someone. I need someone. We've got each other. That's the main reason."_

_The main reason… But… "You're crazy."_

_A laugh._

"_That's why you love me, right?"_

~x~

He had fleeting worries and questions that popped up in his head. That warmth, that man—Demyx— Where was he? Was he near? And why, with the heavy gnawing in his stomach, the loud grumble and the pain pervading throughout his entire body? Why did the pictures not match up in his mind?

Where was he?

And the thoughts stopped there before all went dull and silent once more.

~x~

**Rewritten:** Jan. 4, 2012

**Edited:** Jan. 5, 2012


	5. Kairi: No Turning Back

**. kairi .**

Screaming. Again. That's all there ever was out here, nothing but screaming and the steady sound of banging and growls and more screaming, and…

She ignored it. Tried to. The sun was starting to show itself. That had to be a good sign, right? And she wouldn't leave from her spot until it was fully out in the sky, looming for all to see, giving off its rusty glow. She had to adjust the blanket hanging in front of her—as a makeshift curtain, you see—so that she had a slim view of the door leading to the stairway. All week she'd holed herself in here, high up and out of reach…

There was a small apartment complex out in town, one her family had lived in for years. Before…well... And on its roof was a rundown pigeon house—currently pigeonless—with a shed beside it. It was all accessible through the stairs, and since she didn't want to take her chances inside the building with who knew what lurking around, it was in the shed she made her home. Even if it had its door ripped off the hinges… The blanket would suffice.

And if not that, then she had a gun. She didn't know what kind, didn't bother to find out. All that mattered were the pack of bullets she had swiped from old man Philip's room across the hall and that those bullets fit inside the gun when she reloaded it. It took some figuring out, some guessing, some fear of accidentally blowing off her finger, but she'd managed to get it down.

The screaming seemed to rise in volume. It was a raspy and pained, almost tantrum-like wailing that made her want to cry because it sounded and felt so close… Thank God it wasn't. Thank God that all of it came from the streets below, from those _beasts_ with the golden eyes. She found herself wondering, why? Why was there constant screaming every day at the same time, early morning when the birds started chirping—at least, they would have if they had remained—and why didn't it stop?

Then she remembered the alley behind her apartment building, and how there was a pile of dead dogs there—she didn't know or want to know how they got there—and how those _things_ would creep out at night into that alley because they needed food, they always needed food, some form of meat; and they'd just stay there for the night because they figured, "Here's a good place to stay. Nice and small and dark—" Then the sun would come out in the morning, and it would shine down in that alleyway, and before those _beasts_ could realize it and get out, they were burning alive in the light, and…

The screaming stopped.

Kairi held her breath for a long time, hugging her knees to her chest. Instead of wondering why the shrieks stopped so suddenly, she thought of other things. More important things. The small nest of blankets she had made inside the shed was no longer comfortable, was a bit dirty in fact. They needed to be washed. Soon. If she could get some water from inside, maybe, and boil it… And her food supply was low. She could keep eating canned ravioli. She only had about three left. Where to get food? She'd have to go out eventually, maybe...

But she couldn't think straight, because the intensity and loudness of the silence was too much for her to bear.

She had fallen back asleep after sitting through about ten minutes of quiet, but only for a short while. It was much brighter outside by the time she pulled the curtain back and rose to her feet, stepped out of the shed. Her sandals felt loose, like they were about to fall off, but she ignored it and headed for one edge of the roof. Peered down at the dirty streets.

In this part of Sector One, the buildings had been ransacked and literally torn apart until whole piles of ash and brick and stone littered the ground. Most houses had gaping holes in their sides, making them looked pitiful and wounded and at the mercy of whoever passed. (If anyone was left, that was…) Cars flipped over, tires popped and scratched up, food on the ground. Flies the size of cotton balls zipping around, scavenging for food and having much better luck than Kairi could hope for. The power was out no matter where she went, water sources in other buildings were numerous but soiled with mildew and some unidentifiable sludge she didn't take her chances drinking…

In a matter of days, her entire neighborhood—no, city—had been reduced to little more than a slum. It was downright depressing, but…

_I need food. Something._ And it wasn't like she was going to find anything that wasn't spoiled in this building. There was a general store a little ways down the street; maybe she could check and see if there was anything there. It sounded like a good idea, a logical idea since it was morning, but there was a voice in the back of her head telling her not to risk it. She knew there would be no threat at this time of day—but that fear remained.

_That's probably why you're gonna starve to death…_

It wasn't something she should have been thinking, but she was in that kind of _mood_ today. Just an extremely exhausted, pissy and frightened mood. She should go down there, find something before it was too late. Before she starved… And water, too.

_You'll starve. Yeah…probably. But that won't happen if you get off your butt and do something._

So she went. She grabbed her tan messenger bag—it had a picture of Snoopy on front, though it was faded by now—placed the gun inside, her three cans of ravioli, her two bottles of water, and a jacket—and she was hesitantly heading for the stairways, towards the building's exit. She didn't know, but—

That would be the last time she set foot in that shed.

* * *

What had stood out to her at first weren't the overturned shelves of spoiled and desecrated food, nor was it the lingering stench of mold or the fact that the cash register had been ripped off the counter to her right. What first made her stop in her tracks a mere five minutes after slipping inside and examining the general store—Kiko's, they called it—was the body of the cashier hanging limply from the ceiling. Dead center, his neck tangled in the wires from the fluorescent ceiling lights…

His uniform was still on and everything. The light gray t-shirt with sky blue sleeves. Only his sleeves had been torn off and his shirt bloodied… He twirled slowly, swinging from side to side as he did so, and when his lifeless face was in Kairi's line of vision she quickly turned her head away.

_Food. That's all you need, and some water… Get in, get out. In and out…_

_But why did he have to hang himself? Why'd he do it, why?_

_Don't think about that. Just get what you need and be done with it._

_But he shouldn't have… And those things will get in here and find him, and then they'll yank him down and then they'll…_

Her mind had a bad habit of painting very vivid pictures, letting her imagination escalate out of control. Ignoring it was easier said than done. But get it done she did.

The girl had to weave her way around the overturned shelves and smashed packages of food strewn on the floor in order to reach the back of the store. It wasn't as crowded there, had a few shelves intact. She found some Cool Ranch Doritos, some Oreos she couldn't eat because she was allergic to chocolate (but she took a pack anyway, because the cream filling was good…), some Honey Buns, a couple of bags of Fritos that hadn't been popped open, a handful of Twinkies. Stepping around the colony of ants trailing around the shelf next to her, she moved on to the freezer section. Strange how most of them still worked…

Some bottles of Nestea, some Sprite. _Several_ bottles of Dasani water. Next shelf. Canned food—fruit, soup, rice, meat. Stuff she'd need a pot to cook, but she could find one easily. She'd use the stove in her family's apartment like she had been for the past week, then she'd take her meal back up to her shed and stay there for the rest of the night. Do the whole thing over and over again until—

_Whu-mp!_

And of course Kairi screamed at the loud noise behind her, whipped around and nearly dropped her messenger bag filled with snack foods and bottles and cans she'd have a hard time carrying… She pressed her back into the freezer door, shoving a hand into the bag in search of the gun. And just when she reached it, managed to pull it out and point it every which way frantically, the source of the sound padded up to her.

A cat. It was a fucking cat. Her eyes were still wide as she stared at it, stared at it then looked up to see what it had knocked over. Another shelf. A smaller one with candy on it, near the checkout counter. There was another cat in front of the overturned shelf, staring at Kairi with a cool expression and its gray tail upraised as if saying, "You should _see_ the look on your face right now, you idiot."

Kairi ended up sliding down into a sitting position against the freezer, bag falling down by her side and gun held loosely in her shaking hand, and… Her eyes started tearing up, but she refused to cry and wiped at them furiously. She wanted to laugh at her stupidity—really, it was morning time…and the lights were on in here, so there was no way that it was one of _them_, but still—but she held it in and simply shook her head as the first cat walked up to her and rested its front paws on her knees.

It was a small young thing, orange fur, wide green eyes that seemed to plead, and the thing was staring at her expectantly as if she owed it something. There was a collar on its neck and a name tag that was a bit faded and looked chewed on. **Crystal**. The gray one walked over as well, sitting a little further away with an distrusting look on its face. Kairi glanced at its collar as well. **Belle.** Crystal and Belle. Why were they just staring at her like that, like she was the weird one?

Then it occurred to her, they must have come for the same reason she had.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Her voice was very hoarse all of a sudden. Both felines tilted their heads to the side when she spoke, simultaneously, and she couldn't help but laugh. And cry. She had tears sliding down her cheeks, in spite of her effort. Oh well. "Here…"

She dug out two Twinkies. No, wait. And extra one for herself. She unwrapped them each carefully, setting the first two down on their wrappers. Crystal hopped off her knees and lunged for the snack, Belle for the other. _Poor things…_

She kept thinking that over and over as they ate, the three of them, wondering what they had been doing all this time to get by and what she would do, if she _could_ do anything, for them. Somehow, maybe…

_Poor us._

* * *

She found them by accident. Or, more really, they found her. And she regretted it now, when she thought back on it, and she realized just what a horrible mistake the whole thing was.

But that's getting much further ahead.

Crystal and Belle followed her from that point on. Crystal stuck close by her side, orange paws trotting along the damp sidewalk, while Belle lingered behind at her own pace. With attitude, with her tail twitching left and right and her pink nose held high in an "I'm too good for you" fashion. But never too far away, never too slow. Kairi didn't mind. In fact, she was grateful for the company, even if they weren't human. Even if all they wanted was the food in her pack and, possibly, protection if she could provide it. That was all fine with her.

Eventually she ended up carrying Crystal, because the small thing kept pressing against her legs and mewling at her, and she seemed to be in good enough spirits—not in the scratching mood, as Kairi put it—so she picked up the ginger bundle as she headed back for her apartment building. It was difficult to do, with the bag being so heavy and pressing into her shoulder, but she ignored it.

As anxious as she was at the moment, she wasn't in a rush. It wasn't the warm caress of sunlight or the blaring silence throughout the littered streets that reassured her, though. It was a memory.

Her and her father walking down this road when they first came to Eden. Years ago, when she was just a little girl. Back then there weren't any class systems or financial ranks. You weren't assigned a sector based on your income or what connections you had with people—you just decided to move, and if your Passes were approved, away you went with your family. Wherever you wanted in Eden. Back then, these streets had been filled with people going about their daily business, shopping at markets, rushing to work, catching a bite to eat with friends and loved ones at one of the corner cafés.

Then, a year later, she started second grade and made friends. Chrissie, Lyn. And Selphie, she was always really nice. Invited her to all her parties and sleepovers and always asked her parents if Kairi could come to the festivals with her, please, _pretty_ please, can she? And her parents would say yes, then Kairi's parents would have to approve—they usually did—then she and Selphie would go to the semi-annual festivals held in these very streets. They'd wear new dresses with ribbons in their hair, and then they'd get fried ice cream cones from Mr. Bronte's stand, and he would point in the night sky and say, "Look, girls, the fireworks are about to start." And Selphie and Kairi, and one of their parents would look up and watch in awe—

She felt herself staring into the sky at nothing at particular, pausing in her steps. The sun was in her eyes, making her squint. Hot… When was the last time she'd been to a festival? They used to hold them all the time, but the last one that had been held in Sector One felt like ages ago. And where was Selphie now? Her family had moved off of Eden, onto another planet. An Earth colony, if she remembered correctly…

Head out of the clouds. Focus.

By the time she made it back to her apartment building—past that horrible stench in the alleyway nearby—she had set Crystal back down on her feet, and the two cats followed her inside when she disappeared through the main door. Down the hallway, up the stairs—the elevator was jammed—to the fifth floor. Nothing but the sound of her heavy breathing as she lugged the bag along, a jingling of collars, and the soft _plup, plup_ of her new companions' paws as they hopped up the steps in front of her.

The hallways stunk. Not as strongly as outside, but still strong enough to make her stomach uneasy. Belle and Crystal didn't seem affected by it, following Kairi as she headed into her old apartment. Empty, save for destroyed furniture. Nothing else. Not a soul, dead or alive.

Her parents had...days ago... For help, and then... They never came back.

The room had an air of nostalgia about it, but it didn't last long. She merely needed the kitchen for now, the stove. She made two cans of rice and chicken, separated one can onto two different plates for the cats. They lunged at the servings as well, ignoring the hotness. Kairi ate hers right out of the pot, leaning against the kitchen counter as she did so. It was a simple, quiet moment. Something she still hadn't gotten used to, but she would have to, wouldn't she? In the mornings, and evenings, and… Well, no. Maybe not night time. She'd have to eat her dinners early.

All this time she was eating and thinking and watching the poor felines eat, she didn't realize that there was an approaching sound of footsteps out in the hallway. Two in fact, but, again, she didn't notice. Not right away. It was _after_ she finished eating, when she started to clean up, that she noticed. The sink water was running and she was just about to pile the dishes inside, but she paused when she heard the faint sound growing louder.

Footsteps. Definitely footsteps. Maybe…three? No, the more she listened the more it sounded like two pairs of footsteps. To be sure, she switched the faucet off, listened.

"…nothing in here…turn back…gets late."

"Not yet. We need…get a chance like this again?"

_I'm not hearing…voices, am I? Am I imaging this?_

No, she wasn't. Whoever was talking was getting closer by the second. She couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but it was getting a bit clearer. Belle and Crystal seemed to notice as well, the latter trotting towards the door while the former merely sat where she was with an indignant look on her furry face.

"…check in there, too…going to do?"

"Hold on."

"What?"

"You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Scratching."

Scratching? Oh. Crystal. She was pawing at the door curiously, glancing back at Kairi every now and then as if saying, "The door, dude. Open the door!"

And she wanted to, she really did. To think, there were other people talking and breathing and walking like she was, and they were right outside her door…but something held her back. She couldn't explain it, but the very _thought_ that there were others scared her. Something _about_ those others scared her. Yet Crystal kept scratching at the door, now with reckless abandon, and before Kairi could run forward and scoop the orange bundle up, one of the owners of the mysterious voices was pushing open the door.

It was a mistake. A big mistake… But that's still getting a bit ahead.

Two pairs of eyes looked first to the ginger cat—Crystal had now hopped up and pressed her front paws onto the first person's knees, twitching her bushy tail playfully—then to the other cat that peered back with the same wide eyed expression on its face, then finally to Kairi who was simply at a loss of words and rooted on the spot.

There was a girl who looked to be a few years older than Kairi, blue hair just barely falling around her shoulders. There was an older looking man with her with his brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail. Both had backpacks strapped on, filled with supplies no doubt. Like they were on a hiking trip of some sort. They both looked equally shocked and just as frozen. Then the man behind the blue haired girl whispered something that made Kairi's blood run cold. "Should we kill her?"

That received a quiet, "No…" Then the blue haired girl thought for a moment, as if she didn't quite understand the question at first, and repeated herself more firmly. "No!"

Kairi took a step back, her back pressing into the edge of the counter. No, this was a mistake…

The blue haired girl looked back at her, with pleading eyes, almost, apologetic eyes. She bent down to pick up Crystal who was still stretched onto her legs and mewling at her. "What's your name?"

Name, name… Why couldn't she get her name out? "K…Kairi."

A nod. "I'm Aqua. This is Clarke—"

"Are you sick?" Clarke interjected, pushing past and approaching the red head.

This was a mistake… "No."

"Alone?"

Aqua didn't look comfortable. "Clarke…"

"I am. It's just me…"

"For how long?" He was getting closer now, almost within reaching distance. There was something intimidating about the way he was asking her these questions, as if he was entitled to an answer.

A big mistake… Kairi found herself shrinking a little, gripping the counter's edge from behind her tightly. "Why do you need to know?"

"Yeah, seriously?" Aqua stepped forward herself, shooting a pointed look at Clarke's back, though he wasn't looking in her direction to catch it. "She's probably scared out of her wits, and here you are interrogating her."

"We just need to be sure."

A mistake. But he had pretty turquoise eyes, captivating eyes she couldn't look away from. That didn't take away the unease welling in her chest. "Is it just you two?"

A shake of the head. A smile that was meant to be reassuring but came out forced and taut. Kairi frowned when Clarke held out a hand toward her. "There are others. Several others, in fact. It's just…"

Why was he pausing? What was he thinking about? Why was he giving her that look. And why did the girl, Aqua, look so upset and weary and…something else, but Kairi couldn't put her finger on it, didn't know how to describe it. She didn't like the looks on their faces, though, didn't like them at all.

Somehow, Clarke had gotten a bit closer. His voice was soft. "You should come with us. It isn't safe for you to be on your own."

And he was right, she knew it. Sooner or later her luck would run out, something would happen, but still… Something wasn't right at all.

"Okay…"

The word was out of her mouth before she could really think about it, before she could keep the sudden smile from gracing Clarke's tanned face—and it really did make him look handsome, not that he wasn't already—and for some reason Aqua just looked even more upset, was holding Crystal tighter in her arms. But the girl said nothing as Kairi reluctantly took Clarke's hand and picked up her messenger bag resting on the floor, and she said nothing as Kairi was wordlessly led past into the hallway, back down the stairs to the exit.

Crystal was still mewling in Aqua's arms, and judging from the light jingle that met Kairi's ears, she was sure that Belle was following the trio as well. ("Like I'm passing up a chance for more food…")

It seemed simple enough at the time, it seemed like the logical choice.

But it was one big mistake in the end.


	6. Cloud: Nothing's Ever Right

**. cloud .**

Something wasn't right. He wasn't sure how, but he could tell. And it wasn't anything he could pinpoint either. That's what bugged him.

When he entered the Lockhart estate, he was greeted as he usually was—with warm smiles and looks of respect from the people serving there. A message from his lordship apologizing for his absence and claiming that both he and her ladyship would return shortly before the evening came. (_Oh, and do mind Tifa, dear. She's been in bed with a cold all week, poor girl. Or maybe it's the flu? Hope for the best._) He was also informed that his little brother's train had come in, that the boy and his friend were still sleeping in the guest rooms, but could be summoned if Mr. Strife so wished it.

No, it wouldn't be necessary, he told them. The blonde gave a shake of the head to the fair haired maid in front of him, and then mumbled something about speaking privately with Tifa. Before she could ask him if he would need anything else he was making his way up the spiraling stairs.

Everything looked in order. Same coffee tables lining the walls, same glazed vases with imported assortments of flowers arranged inside, same silken curtains drawn back to let the sunlight seep into the narrow hallway. A couple of maids were cleaning up further down the hallway. One held a dustpan while the other swept, and they both looked worried as they spoke in low voices about…something. Cloud couldn't understand all of it. Didn't care. He only caught the last few words from the one with the dustpan: "…think it's really serious?"

That was all before he disappeared into Tifa's bedroom. And still, something didn't feel right. Why?

"Cloud?"

"Tifa." He looked to the bed, took in his fiancé's appearance. She was slumped down against a mound of pillows. She sported a deep gray tank top, though it was barely visible under the blanket she had wrapped around her. Her usually straight and lustrous hair was in desperate need of a brush and maybe even a wash. (Of course, Cloud was too much of a gentleman to say that bit out loud.) Just one of her hands was hanging over the side of the bed, gripping a fistful of tissues. Tissues, tissues, and more tissues, piled on the floor, some on the bed. She looked tired, looked sick, but at the same time she looked happy to see the blonde and he couldn't help but smile. "Wow… You look horrible."

Before she could reply, she started coughing—harshly, he noted, but when she stopped she looked fine enough. "Ouch… That's something every woman loves to hear."

"Sorry."

"No you're not, you liar." She smiled anyway and sat up in the bed.

It was dark in the room, in spite of the fact that the morning was young and the sun was begging to shine its light inside. It wasn't until Cloud shut the door behind him that he realized the curtains were drawn closed, that the lamps weren't on. He made to open one of the curtains, but Tifa made a noise that halted his hand. He looked at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

"Leave it. The light…gives me a headache."

Strange… He nodded, left it at that, then walked over and took a seat beside her. They sat in a moment of comfortable silence. Tifa let out a breath—not really one of relief, but it came close—and closed her eyes while Cloud lazily brushed a hand against her cheek. Brushed some of her hair back, tucked it behind an ear. A simple, comforting act. An simple, comforting moment between them. Then Tifa ruined it.

"When's the last time you talked to Leon?"

Of course. Again, with that question…

The man frowned. "Not sure. Maybe a couple of months."

"Cloud—"

"We ended it, Tifa. I already told you that."

A frown graced her lips, her eyes narrowed, and no, she wasn't happy in the slightest. Cloud didn't look her in the eye, instead stared at the hand that wasn't gripping tissues and watching as she clenched it into a weak fist. "Why?"

_Why do you think?_ He wanted to ask her, snap at her, but he remained silent. Tifa let out another breath, this time one of disappointment. They sat in silence once more. Stiff silence.

"Cloud… I've been thinking for a while," the woman murmured. She shook her cheek free from his hand, lifted her free hand to grip his chin, and forced him to look at her. "I've been thinking about not going through with the wedding. It's just… As much as I care about you, I just don't see myself as your wife, you know? And besides, it wouldn't be fair to you."

"What makes you say that?"

"You have Leon."

And it always came back to that. Always, always…but he didn't blame her, really.

The two of them had no secrets. Not between each other, in any case. Whatever was on Cloud's mind, he shared, and vice versa. Whatever worries, fears, regrets, hopes, dreams—all of it, they shared. They were close, very close, and one would be surprised to find that their feelings—the feeling that, no matter how much they cared about the other, they would never truly consider it _love_—were mutual.

And it always came back to Leon. Because, whether he wanted to admit it or not, it was with Leon that Cloud felt happiest. Tifa knew this. Roxas knew this. Cloud knew this. So why wouldn't the man accept it?

"I'm telling my parents," Tifa continued, pausing to blow her nose and to give an aggravated moan at how painfully awful it was to blow your brains out into a piece of tissue. "I'm going to sit them down and tell them that I'm not going through with it. That I broke off the engagement."

The blonde merely nodded, staring at the woman's hair with feigned curiosity. Noticed some of the strands out of place, that some of them had lost a bit of color. "Your hair's going gray."

"Cloud."

"I'm listening."

"Then look me in the eye."

He did. Didn't like the look she was giving him, but he did. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, that uneasy feeling increased. Something still didn't feel right. It wasn't this conversation, no, not that, but it was… What? Tifa was still talking, but the words weren't registering in his ears. Now that he was up close and examining her face fully, he was sure that… What? Sura about what?

_Her hair's going gray… Does the flu do that? Do colds do that? And her eyes look funny too…_ They looked…yellowish, almost. Really light.

Something wasn't right…

"You're not even listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"If I lie and say yes, will you drop the subject?" He said it jokingly, but the seriousness was there. The strain in his voice was there, however faint. He was leaning back in the bed, still examining Tifa's face closely as he spoke, but that only served to upset the woman further. She pinched him.

"Ow!"

"You deserved it, you jerk," she said lightly, grinning before blowing her nose once more.

"In that case, you can forget those flowers and chocolates I was going to have delivered," he countered with an equally light tone.

He preferred it like this, when they were poking fun at each other and playfully throwing insults back and forth like a pair of squabbling siblings. It was better this way, and yet…

Tifa grew solemn once more, watching as Cloud rose to his feet. "I was serious, you know. I really am going to tell them."

"Mm."

"You should tell your parents too."

"Because that would go over oh so well."

She sighed, because that was the closest she'd ever get to an, "I'll think about it," or an, "Okay." It was Cloud, so it was good enough. She reached out her free hand and gripped the man's wrist, causing him to look down at her with a…well, with this look. Not necessarily resignation or acceptance, no, but it something very close to a mixture of the two.

"Please, Cloud, call Leon. If not for my sake or for yours, then do it for his. He probably misses you like hell. You're both just too stubborn—"

He interrupted her with a small kiss to the forehead. The woman ended up sighing, slipping her eyes shut at the contact. Why, he wasn't sure, but he was smiling now. Just a small one. "I'll call him."

"Promise?" A whisper.

"Promise."

"Good."

"Anything else, mother dearest?"

She swatted him lightly, but smiled all the same. "Can you tell Emile to make me some soup, please? I'm starving…"

"Alright. Get some rest after you eat, okay?"

"Thank you, Cloud."

Then he left.

Something still didn't feel right.

* * *

It happened later on that night.

Cloud had just gotten back from his evening out with Roxas—really, all they truly did was shop around for a bit before heading back to the Lockhart's; nothing eventful—ready to call it a day. His brother was already heading back to his room, waving to Cloud and saying how he'd call him tomorrow if they didn't get to see each other again. Cloud figured he should at least say hi to Sora before he grabbed a bite to eat and took a nap. He was in the kitchen and then—

"Cloud."

A maid. No, not just any maid, it was Emile. An elderly woman who had served the Lockhart family for as long as Cloud could remember. He recalled visits when he was just a child, times when he and Tifa were unaware of the concept of marriage and simply thought of each other as playmates. Emile had been the girl's nanny then, had taken care of them whenever they needed it. In many ways, she was like a third mother-figure for him.

She stood in front of him now, blocking his way to the fridge. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry. I went out for a bit with Roxas."

"Sora told me."

She eyed him silently, a strange expression on her face. Something curious and knowing. It made him uncomfortable. "Is something wrong?"

A pause, then a sly grin. The woman sighed, moving from the fridge. "No, no… There's a surprise waiting for you in your room."

"You mean the guest room?"

"_Your_ room," she corrected, poking the man in the chest.

What was she talking about? Surprise? "What is it?"

"Why don't you go see for yourself? Secret's safe with me."

And she left him with that, going about her business with that mysterious smile on her face. Cloud could only watch her warily before he decided to head out of the kitchen, up the stairs.

Surprise? What the hell could she be talking about? And what did she mean by a secret?

Said secret became apparent when he stepped into the guest—_his_—room. Someone was sitting on the bed. Lying on it, in fact, with a book propped open and helped above its head. At the sound of the door opening, the "secret" looked over at the blonde.

Cloud's jaw dropped. "Leon?"

"Hey."

"You're… You're _here?_"

There was something playful about him, though his usual reserved expression never left his face. The brunette sat up, snapped the book closed. "Am I not wanted?"

Cloud found himself at a loss for words, if only for a minute, and he felt heat start to rush up to his face. "I just didn't expect to see you… Not so soon, anyway. I was going to call…"

No, actually, he wasn't, but still…

"I could leave—"

"_No._"

He said it with such a force, with such a surprising harshness that even he was caught off guard. Leon was eyeing him in surprise—and, slowly, it turned into a grim sort of contentedness. A sigh left his lips. "I've missed you."

That was it. No, "You could have called me in all this time, could have seen how I was doing instead of ignoring me." No, "Oh, so _now_ you care?" Just an, "I've missed you." It was enough to make Cloud realize what an idiot he'd been over the past few months, what an idiot he was for thinking that his parents could come between them, and just how…

He'd missed him. So much. But he was here now, and that's what mattered.

"Cloud?"

"My place."

The brunette looked at him questioningly. "What?"

"Come back to my place."

A pause. Gray eyes were looking into blue, searching for something. Then a smile softened the man's features.

"Sure."

* * *

It didn't occur to him to ask exactly how Leon had found him, or how he had managed to slip into the Lockhart estate like it was the easiest thing in the world. He wouldn't find out until much later that it was actually one of the maids who had done some digging to see if a Mr. Squall or Leon was on the guest list for the wedding. He wouldn't learn until later that she had done her research, had given the man a call to confirm, and a bit later he had called back and asked for the address of the bride's family. Only later would he ask and find out that it was Emile who had answered the door when the man showed up, had allowed him in and told him to wait until Cloud had come back.

None of this occurred or mattered to him, and it was all well because at the moment nothing else was supposed to matter… They would spend the rest of the night at his place, and by morning… Well, they would figure it out.

They had their lips locked from the moment they had slipped into Cloud's house. It was a simple place, nothing extravagant. A small place fit for two people. Fit for this, for just the two of them.

They kissed for a bit before they ended up curling up on Cloud's bed, side by side, staring into the other's eyes with something so very like longing but something else, something more. The blonde sighed, pressed his face closer to the man in front of him. He couldn't keep his hand from resting on Leon's waist, from slipping ever so slightly underneath the fabric of the man's shirt. And Leon had his fingers brushing against and gripping and stroking Cloud's hair. And then they were kissing again, less slowly, deeper, and he couldn't stop himself from letting out a weak moan when Leon slipped his tongue inside.

Hands were roaming and groping, their bodies shifted in the bed, beneath the covers, and it was so very warm the way they were pressed together right now. So very right. Cloud wondered why, exactly, had he tried to end this? Why would he not accept that, maybe, this felt perfectly fine to him and it shouldn't matter what anyone else thought of it? What, exactly, was he afraid of? What was it, his parents? Tifa's? Society itself?

"Cloud."

Every thought left him right then. The way Leon called his name… It sent a shiver through his entire body. He gripped Leon's waist, tugged it closer. The mouth broke away from his, then teeth were nipping at his ear, trailing down to his neck, his collar bone. The brunette had shifted them into a position where Cloud was lying on his back, breathing heavily and staring up glossy eyed at his lover.

Why had he wanted to forget this?

That was his last thought before he closed his eyes and let Leon have his way.

* * *

"…taking her to the hospital." Mr. Lockhart's voice. Worried.

"Wha… Is it that serious?" His wife's voice, bordering on frantic.

"Angie, her hair's gone gray. And her eyes are…"

"Should we…come with you?" That was Sora. So unsure…

The next morning, and he'd already overheard something curious. It wasn't really the type of conversation Cloud wanted to walk in on, but the moment he set foot into the living room his interest was piqued. Tension was in the air. Four pairs of eyes turned towards him, wide with surprise. He took in the separate gazes, scowling.

Mr. Lockhart—Eli, he'd have to get used to calling him—was busy slipping on his coat, buttoning it. His brown brows were furrowed, his lips locked into a thin frown. Tifa's mother was on one of the sofas, dressed smartly—did she have work today? It was Saturday... But her shawl was now crinkled in her lap, her gloved hands holding tightly onto Roxas'. The boy sat beside her with an equally disturbed expression on his face. Sora was on his feet, rocking back and forth on his heels it seemed, looking back to Mr. Lockhart for some sort of answer, with concern…

Something was very, very wrong.

Cloud stood in the doorway, one hand still pressed against the wall. "It's Tifa?" He already knew the answer, though…and this feeling of guilt welled up inside of him. Guilt and disbelief, because he had just seen her yesterday, had just talked to her and laughed with her and…

Mr. Lockhart—Eli, Dad, whatever the hell he was supposed to call him—gave a grim nod. "She's gotten worse. Emile just told me… Her eyes, they… She can't see."

It took a minute for those words to register. "She can't _see?_"

"Completely blind, she says. Tifa was screaming earlier when she woke up. I'm taking her to get checked out."

_My God…_ "I'll come with you."

Mr. Lockhart held up a hand, shook his head as he made his way towards Cloud. There was something furious about the way he talked, but the blonde knew it was just fatherly concern. "No, no, I just… I'll handle it. I'll call when they find something out."

"Eli," Mrs. Lockhart was on her feet, teary eyed. "Let him—"

"I'll handle it. I'll call. We'll figure something out. Dr. Harlow can… I'll be back."

"The mistress is in the car, sir," a young man said from behind Cloud, causing the latter to jump. He stepped aside, looked to the butler who was eyeing Mr. Lockhart nervously. "She's crying…"

"I'm coming."

The four of them watched worriedly as he disappeared into the hallway.

* * *

They didn't hear anything until midnight. Just a couple of minutes past it, in fact. It wasn't Mr. Lockhart who called, though; it was the family doctor Mr. Harlow. And even though Cloud couldn't hear what he was saying, the truth was clear on Mrs. Lockhart's face as she held the phone stiffly to her ear, let tears stream down her red polished cheeks. It was suddenly very still and quiet in the room.

"Eleven fifty-three..." Mrs. Lockhart repeated the words dully, still crying, hand shaking. "Eleven fifty-three… It was ten minutes ago?"

Silence. Cloud clenched and unclenched his hands into fists. Something sank in his heart, sank and drowned and choked to death until he felt nothing but numbness.

"And you said… Heart failure. What did she… Did she say anything before…? I see. Okay. Thank you."

She hung up the phone. At this point the boys were all on their feet, holding their breaths and… Cloud took a step forward, held a hand out towards the woman who was slowly breaking in front of them. "Angie…"

"She's…" She took a wobbly step forward and shook her head. "She's…"

"It'll be okay."

"She's… God… My _God_, my God, she's—" And she didn't say any more after that. Couldn't. But she didn't have to, because they knew and understood, didn't want to believe or accept it, but they understood…

Tifa was dead.


	7. Yuffie: Change is Good  Maybe

**. author's note .**

So, even though I said I wouldn't, I'm putting her out there. (And no, Corn, my friend, I'm not sorry.) It's a long story, but I'll make it as short as possible.

I have a friend, a very good friend. I call her Queen Corn; yeah, don't ask why… I usually let her log into my fanfiction account because, well, she's too lazy to make her own. Plus I really don't care, so long as she doesn't mess with anything, which she doesn't. Nope, she hasn't messed with a single thing for the two years I've known her. At all. Ever. You know why? Because I trust that little butt nugget.

Anyway, she has been bugging me ever since my last update for another chapter of this story. I kindly told her that I would most likely be too busy and wouldn't get a chance to update for at least another three weeks. No, no, she wasn't having it. So she told me she would keep track of how many Saturdays I didn't update. (I don't remember which author's note it was in, but I did say I would only update on Saturdays from now on…) For every missed update, I owed her an extra chapter. That was fair, I figured.

Then midterms came up. Three missed updates. Okay, not so bad. I could whip out three chapters. Then I had ass-loads of essay assignments dumped on me. Three weeks turned into five. Still not that bad. Mind you, I've been receiving emails from good ol' Corn every week reminding me that I owed her X amount of chapters for my next update. Finally, I told her that instead I'd make it up to her with a gift fic. A one shot. Akuroku sexiness dedicated just to her. Yeah, well… I never got around to that. So guess what she did?

She changed my fanfic password. Oh, yes, and she changed the email to her own. Yes, she was THAT _EVIL_ to me! So I have no access whatsoever to my account. :P And if you're wondering how I managed to update under those circumstances, the answer is because I've been forced to email whatever chapters I've written to Corn so that she could do the updating for me. Meaning, until I whip out the other six chapters I owe her (and her accursed gift fic, because she hasn't let that one go) I won't get my account back.

Ain't she a stinker? I guess this is payback for being a lazy writer, though. So, anyway… xD That explains why this update is uber-late, and you can trust that I'm going to get those other chapters out quickly; I want my account back. With all that being said, I apologize and thank you for being so damn patient when I _really_ don't deserve it. You guys are the best!

P.S. I officially want to shank you with a bendy straw, Corn. And don't you dare change my author's note. With love~

**P.P.S. (From QUEEN Corn) I love you too, boo. Now write.**

**

* * *

**

**. yuffie .**

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Stripping. What's it look like?"

She had to admit, she was not minding the view… No, in fact Yuffie was having a hard time tearing her eyes away from a particular red head that was currently yanking his shirt over his head. He didn't seem to care that he was in plain view of two others; in fact, he almost seemed amused by the fact. He tossed the shirt aside before lying back down on the floor, toned arms folded behind his head.

_Look at those abs… And his pits. My God, he's got gorgeous arm pits._

"Axel, put your shirt back on."

Ah, but of course Riku felt differently on the matter.

Yuffie couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. His nose was scrunched up like he smelled something rotten. He ended up shooting his aquamarine gaze in her direction, causing her to stifle the laughter (unsuccessfully). He still had two bandages forming an X on his forehead—the bruise there and the one on his blackish eye hadn't gone down in the three days they'd been together—which always made the girl mentally wince and want to apologize for the umpteenth time. ("Riku, I'm really—" And he'd cut her off with a sharp, "I know, Yuffie. You're sorry. I get it. I'm over it, okay?" Apparently it got old after three days…)

But this wasn't about Riku or his poor, abused forehead, or his squinty and blackened eye, or his strange hair that still put Yuffie on edge. No, it was about those _abs_, and—

"Where are you staring, girl?"

Axel's voice interrupted her thoughts, and for the second time that day she mentally winced because she couldn't—rather, didn't want to—rip her eyes away to look him in the face rather than ogling, and he seemed to realize that because he was laughing now. "Enjoying the view?"

"Yes."

He laughed even harder.

She rolled over onto her stomach, folding her arms in front of her and resting her chin on top. Her big brown eyes stared directly at Axel. "Why'd you take your shirt off anyway? It only distracts me."

"It's hot," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Then be like normal people and deal with it."

"This is how I deal with it."

"Weirdo."

There was a playfulness in his voice now. "If you're jealous, then you can take yours off as well."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, perv?"

"Nah… You're too scrawny to be my type."

"Uh! You're one to talk, Captain Anorexia!"

It was nice… All of this. Having other people with her, especially in this dark and cramped classroom…it really felt nice. She still couldn't believe all of this had happened, that they were together and in one piece and that she wasn't imagining any of it. She always had to backtrack to that night…

* * *

"_We thought you were… Shit." A pause. Then he started laughing. It was a nervous kind of laughter that she really didn't like, really wasn't comfortable with. It worsened her fear. "Help me, alright? Grab that knife."_

_She found herself frozen on the spot, still staring at the unconscious body on the ground with the knife beside it. Her bat was still gripped loosely in her hand…and her hands felt numb, too. Almost lifeless after that one swing. She… His hair. All she could focus on was that boy's hair. She didn't care what the man in front of her said; his hair was still silver, and his eyes… Had she gotten a good look at the boy's eyes? She couldn't remember…_

_And why was she in here, the teacher's lounge? Wait… Food. It had been food she wanted, more snacks, because the vending machine nearest the classroom was out and she figured why not use up a better one for the time being, then she'd heard footsteps from out in the hallway and she'd freaked out, so she hid and waited, and then—_

"_I said help me. I need you to carry that knife. And bring your bat, too."_

_What? Oh, right. The man. He was lifting the boy onto his back as he spoke, snapping Yuffie out of her thoughts. Even though her mind was screaming to run and find another place to stay, her body was moving on its own. Almost as if it was being drawn to the red head's voice. "O…oh. R-rght. Sorry."_

_They had gone back to the classroom, her safe haven. It had been her English classroom when she was in third grade six years ago, and it had been the closest place she had felt safe in near her home. She'd packed what she could and hiked down the road one morning, and ever since…_

_Then she remembered the mess that was in there and her feminine products sitting in the cubbies out for the world to see, and she felt heat rise to her face when they walked through the door. She was sure the red haired stranger wasn't concerned in the least about her tampons, but she felt embarrassed all the same and quickly rushed over to cover them up. She'd even set the bat and knife aside on the floor, grabbed some empty bottles, and placed them in front of the tampons._

_The man set the boy down on her sleeping bag, right on top of dear Pocahontas' face, before glancing over in her direction. He arched an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"_

"_Nothing." Why was her voice so high? Didn't sound like her at all. Her hands were still shaking, too…_

"_Your tampons, right? Odd thing to be worrying about in a time like this, don't you think?"_

Crap, he saw them… _she thought bitterly, her face growing redder._

_Then it occurred to her, yes, she was being silly by fussing over them because they weren't what were important at the moment, and she was still scared out of her wits, and her heart was beating painfully hard and fast in her chest… And she was crying, because that's just what Yuffie did when suffering from high stress levels._

_She found herself turning around and sagging to the floor and burying her face in her hands because she really, really, really didn't know what else to do at the moment. And she was sure that made the man feel awkward, because he was quiet for a long time before clearing his throat. "Please, don't… It's okay, you know?"_

"_N-no, it's n-not," she sobbed, wiping at her face and unsuccessfully drying the tears rolling down._

"_No one got hurt. Well…not seriously, hopefully. You're alright, right?"_

"_You s-saw my t-tamp-pons…"_

_And the randomness of the statement coupled with how seriously it seemed to upset the girl must have amused the red head on some level, because he started laughing. True laughter, not the nervous, scared kind. Yuffie, still thinking she was being incredibly silly and emotional for the wrong reasons, started laughing and crying at the same time. She kept shaking her head frantically, swiping at her face a little longer before the tears slowed down and her sobs turned into smalls, involuntary gasps._

_The red head was still chuckling yet shooting her a look of concern. "You good?"_

"_Y…yeah." A small nod. "I think so. But, is he g-gonna be okay?"_

_They both looked at the silver haired boy then. He was really out of it, just lifeless and still. So much so that it worried Yuffie, made her wonder if—dear God, no—she had killed him… But he was breathing, so that couldn't have been the case, right? His forehead had a thin trail of red leading towards his nose than down his cheek, and his eye was bruised, and it made Yuffie's face hurt just looking at him._

_The red head sighed. "Don't know. Is there a First Aid in here?"_

"_I can check the nurse's room."_

"_I'll get it. Don't need you having another freak out—"_

"_Wait!"_

_He paused in his movement, glanced over at the girl. "What?"_

"_I'm Yuffie." Why she felt the need for introductions now was beyond her, but it was already out, and now she was staring expectantly at the fiery haired stranger who gave her a warming smile in response._

"_Axel. And the kid you beat the snot out of is Riku."_

"_Right… I'm really sorry…"_

"_Don't be. I'll be back, alright?"_

_And he left for the nurse's office, gun still in hand. She could have warned him that the entire building was empty, that there weren't any others lurking around, otherwise she wouldn't have been there in the first place, but she felt a heavy sense of ease and tiredness weigh down on her and she started crying again._

* * *

Yeah. That night had scared the shit out of her. Out of all the near-death situations and false alarms she had experienced—and there had been a few—that night had taken the cake. Yet she couldn't have been more pleased with how things turned out.

They hadn't left the building after that. Figured, why rush? At least, those had been her words. The main reason at first had been to make sure Riku had recovered completely; he'd woken up that same night a couple hours later with a massive headache and his anxiety replaced with anger. The next day, however, Yuffie's reason had morphed from concern for the boy's wellbeing to fear of…well, whatever else was lurking around outside. Somehow she had convinced them to stay with her for three days; somehow she had managed to convince them that it would be safest.

That only lasted for so long, though.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow," Riku asked the other two in a serious manner.

Yuffie sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, regarding the boy with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we can't stay here."

"Hm…" Axel seemed hum in agreement, which only made the girl's eyes widen. She stared at the red head still lying on the floor, then at Riku, and back again. "We can't _leave._"

Riku frowned, giving her a blank stare. "Why not?"

"I mean… What's the point? We're fine like this."

"Look, girly," Axel said, sitting up just enough to shoot a glance at Yuffie, "I'll tell you what I told him. Your best bet is out there, not cooped up in one place. Trust me. It's not a good idea, period. We should be out there trying to find other people, and if not that, then trying to get out of this place."

The girl was hesitant, hugging her knees tighter. "Out of…out of Sector Three, or out of Eden?"

"Mm… Both, I guess."

Riku sighed, lifting his knees up as well and shaking hair from his eyes. "There's no reason to stay, when you think about it. Everyone's either sick or… Maybe a few other people like us, like Axel said, but other than that there's nothing. We have to keep moving."

_But I don't want to, don't you get that? I've been fine here so far, and I'll keep it that way._ The thought must have shown on her face, because both males were giving her this _look_. Just that kind of look, like you obviously didn't know what you were thinking or talking about.

"This place isn't always gonna be a safe haven, Yuf," Axel stated.

"There's no real food," Riku added, matter-of-factly. "Just broken vending machines."

"Most of the lights don't work." The red head again…

"And the windows are busted…"

"That bat of yours can only do so much. We'd be lucky to survive another week without any of those things wandering inside."

"Maybe three days."

"Not even that, probably—"

"Just _STOP!_" At this point, she snapped, shutting the both of them up at once. They just stared, a little taken aback, a little hurt, but understanding her feelings completely. Well, mostly. They just stared as she hopped to her feet with her hands clenched into fists, and as she started pacing around the dimly lit room. In front of the desk with its papers and trinkets piled on top. She shut her eyes, gripping the sides of her head. "Just stop… I get it, alright?"

Unlike them, she wasn't one to think so practically. She wasn't one to change her mind so easily, even if a good argument, a logical argument, was presented to her. She wasn't the kind of person who took chances and stepped out of her comfort zone when it wasn't convenient for her, and wandering around _out there_ with those _things_ crawling around—yeah, not very convenient.

Suddenly she felt a little sick to her stomach. The dark haired girl sighed and wrapped her arms around her stomach, kneeling to the ground. Riku let out a short breath. "Didn't mean to upset you."

"I know… I just really don't want to leave." She looked up at his pale face, at the both of them. "But you guys are going regardless, aren't you?"

The boys exchanged short looks with each other before Axel replied, "Don't know about him, but I am. Don't plan on sticking around for too long."

"You'd just leave us like that?"

"Yup." He left it at that, laid back down and folded his arms behind his head once more. He may have closed his eyes as well, but she couldn't tell from this angle. It seemed so simple, at least to him, but Yuffie didn't get it. Couldn't get it. He'd abandon them so easily, without a second thought? After spending so much time with them and just barely getting to know them? (Well…three days wasn't that long, but still.) She looked at Riku for some sort of explanation, but the boy merely shrugged and averted his gaze.

The girl narrowed her eyes, partly in confusion and partly in anger. "You're horrible, you know that?"

The red head didn't reply.

After a long moment's silence, Riku replied, "Think of it this way; it's not like you'll really have a choice in the end. He was going to leave me too, but I changed my mind at the last minute."

She thought for a moment, curious. "Why?"

"Dunno… I mean, he's an insensitive jerk wad from what I can tell. And his attitude pisses me off."

"I can hear you."

"Shut it, Captain Anorexia— All I'm saying, Yuffie, is that he's right. It's not a good idea to stick around in one place for too long, no matter how safe you feel." The green-eyed teen fell silent for a moment, staring off into space, lost in thought. "I learned that the hard way."

_The hard way?_ She wanted to ask him, to argue a bit more. Maybe she could say something that would change their minds, anything at all that could convince them to stick around. Even if they were right, that didn't mean they had to leave so soon, did it? That didn't mean she had to leave, but then…

_What if they really just go without me?_

There were no words to describe just how upset that thought made her. She hugged her stomach a little tighter, biting her lip in that nervous way that didn't really make the nervousness go away. "What time do you plan on leaving tomorrow?"

Axel gave a hum as he thought for a moment. "After breakfast, I guess. If you can call those stale ass Twinkies breakfast…"

"And you're going on foot?"

"Not like I have a car to drive."

Silence. She didn't move or respond for a long time. Then, finally: "My… There's a key card somewhere at my uncle's house. For his truck. We can walk over tomorrow and get them."

That was the closest to a "yes" they were going to get out of her, and that seemed to be just fine because Riku's lip curved into a slight smile and Axel gave a toothy grin.

"Well, alright, girlie. You'll lead the way."

* * *

They were packed and ready to go in roughly twenty minutes. It would have been ten, had Yuffie not "overslept". The girl was still curled up in her Pocahontas sleeping bag in the fetal position, her eyes slipping open every now and then to see two pairs of feet shuffling around. Eventually Axel shuffled his way behind her, and shortly after she felt five toes—five grubby man toes—press into her dark locks. "Wake up, Scrawny."

Her first thought: _His big feet are squishing my head._

Her second though: _His nasty man FEET are on my HEAD_.

Her third thought: _And did he just call me scrawny?_

The girl gave a haughty huff as she reached a hand back and swatted at the unwanted toes. "I'm up, I'm up already, you man bear pig!"

"Man bear pig?"

"Well, your feet are ginormous."

"And your chest is flat. Now get your stuff so we can go."

"Ugh! I'll have you know I'm proud of my bust, thank you!"

At that he just snorted, and she could have sworn she saw Riku roll his eyes. Honestly, how the red head managed to formulate such comebacks in such a short amount of time was beyond her, but she was up and about all the same. She threw some of her things together in a little panda bear bag—water bottles, some Twinkies, chips…tampons—grabbed her bat, and then followed the boys as they slipped out of the window.

It was weird… After all that time she had spent locked up in the school, it was just strange having the sun beat down on her the moment she made it outside, or feeling dry blades of grass crinkle and break beneath her feet. It was like she was stepping into the world for the first time—except there were only two other people in it, as far as she knew. Not that it was _entirely_ a bad thing…

"Yuffie, which way are we going?"

"Huh?" She shot a questioning stare at Riku, only to have him squint his blackened eye back at her. "Oh! Right, my uncle's place. It's a bit of a walk, though."

"How long?"

"Like, half an hour."

"Not too long, then," Axel said—was that a relief in his voice? "Lead the way."

It wasn't hard to remember her way around the town, not as hard as she had thought it would be. The girl had been holed up in one place for roughly two weeks, so her ideas of how the outside world had changed ranged from the simple to the fantastical. At least now she knew that buildings hadn't crumbled to pieces, the roads hadn't split in two, rivers of lava weren't bubbling and boiling beneath them as they walked, and the Devil himself wasn't galloping around on a shadowy steed. Oh, and the people who had been infected. Those _things_. They weren't lurking around either, which was a plus in her book.

The brunette let her mind wander as they walked, seeing as no one wanted to talk. Why, she couldn't say. They all just seemed really tense, like some invisible force had taken some sticks and promptly shoved them up their butts to make everyone just all sorts of uncomfortable. ("_Haha! Why so serious?"_)

They weaved their way through the stalled traffic, climbing over the occasional overturned SUV every now and then. The trio ended up stopping a few times because—"Did you hear that?"—and they'd wait, look around, on edge. No, there wasn't anything to hear. Just a trick of the mind, paranoia. A squirrel or something. That was it. Then they would go on even more tense than before.

_This is what ghost towns are like_, Yuffie mused to herself. _Except without the cowboys. Without the people._ She couldn't help but entertain that thought. The market, the bookstore her aunt always took her to on the weekends, the small eateries, the second-rate shops she never really checked out—all of them were wooden buildings with shutters for doors and signs out front that read "Saloon" to her. The roads and sidewalks weren't concrete, they were pathways of sand and gravel with the tumble weeds rolling lazily along them while coyotes howled in the background. There had been people at one point, all dressed in frilled garments and gloves, or in some chaps and boots and with the ten-gallon hats and matching vests… And they all spent their time in the bars playing dusty pianos and dancing, or drinking and chewing tobacco, or gossiping with one another along the streets, or…or whatever else people did in the Old West. She wasn't sure; her brain was having a massive fart at the moment.

Everything she looked at as they walked made her feel even less and less…there. You know? She wasn't part of this town, this world. This wasn't her home, this was some warped version of the place she had gotten so used after all these years. It looked like something out of movies or fiction books, some imagined idea of what the end of the world would look like.

_Haha… Why so serious? I actually hated that movie…_

"Yuffie."

And pause. Reel it back. Press play.

The girl stopped at the sound of Riku's voice, turning to face the boy. Both he and Axel had stopped as well, letting their bags drop by their sides and shooting the girl a look. She blinked. "What?"

"Where are we?"

"We're…" Oh crap. _Where_ were they?

She glanced around, only then realizing that they had somehow gone from very crowded surroundings to a barren stretch of road. No sidewalk, a number of scratched up trees and broken bits of glass stabbing into the ground. No buildings, at least not ones that she recognized. There were just a few, small shops with illegible handwritten signs torn from the front and busted windows, chairs and shelves snapped in half and dragged into the doorways. Further along the road there seemed to be a couple more larger buildings, but after that there was nothing. She didn't know this part of town.

"Um…"

"We're lost." The silvery haired teen hadn't even posed it as a question. He just sighed and shook his head, like he had expected as much.

Of course, being the proud girl she was, she became very offended and waved her bat in front of the boy's face. "No we're not."

He swatted at the bat, poking it right back in the girl's chest. "Then where's your uncle's place?"

"Somewhere. Close… I just need to think, that's all."

"Meaning you don't know where we are. We've been walking for over forty minutes—"

"So it's a little further than I remembered! That does _not_ mean we're lost."

"Girls," Axel chimed in, pushing past the two of them, swinging his bag back over his shoulder, "how 'bout you two stay here and keep bitching at each other, and I'll just go ahead. Giving me a headache…"

Yuffie rounded on him, eyes wide. "Don't go!"

"Then both of you stop whining and get your asses in gear," he said, letting his annoyance leak into his tone as he kept strolling along.

Yuffie and Riku eyed him for a moment before the latter asked, "What about the car?"

"Walking won't kill you."

Translation: We're lost anyway; might as well just keep moving. Made sense, but Yuffie wasn't happy about it, no, she definitely wasn't. She kept her mouth shut as they settled back into silence and went on, but the frustration was clear on her face.

_All they asked was for me to lead the way, and I couldn't do that right? What the fudge is wrong with me?_ It wasn't fair...and it just pissed her off. She was so caught up in the unfairness of it all, her incapability and distractedness, that she didn't even notice when they came up on a warehouse. It almost looked like a barn, the way the walls were designed, and it even had a garage-like door on the end facing them. Was that a parking lot around the back? Not a parking lot in the conventional sense—no concrete, just dirt, or neatly place white lines or anything—but there were a handful of cars sitting innocently behind the building in a somewhat organized fashion. Each one looked particularly unscathed. Which you just didn't see nowadays… They had slowed their pace to a halt when they got close enough.

"See?" Axel said with a grin, pointing to the cars. "That's what I call luck."

Riku didn't seem as enthusiastic. "You still need a key card to drive. Plus they're probably locked."

"Obviously you've never stolen a car before."

"…" Obviously not, because the boy didn't have a reply for that. He just arched a brow at the man.

The red head chuckled, shook his head. "I'll work on getting a car running. You two check this place out or something. Maybe find some supplies in there." And before either of them could really reply, he was off.

Yuffie watched his figure shrink before turning to Riku and asking, "Why do you gotta be a downer all the time, anyway?"

He didn't reply, seemed to ignore her. His bag was hanging onto his shoulder loosely, nearly fell when he pressed a hand to the garage door. No handles or locks or anything. "I don't think we can get in."

The girl eyed the door a moment before hopping around the corner of the building, panda pack bumping against her shoulders and bat held awkwardly in one hand. "Well it's got windows."

"Yeah, high up."

"Let's just look over here."

They ended up finding a side door in a short amount of time, but…

The moment they walked in, they stopped and stared, mouths forming O's. Riku's eyes went wide. "What the hell is this?"

"Oh…wow."

It seemed like a normal warehouse. At first. You know, work benches pressed against the walls, a few overturned chairs here and there, looming shelves, windows high up on each wall fully covered with sheets and cardboard rectangles… Then there were the chains dangling from the ceiling, most of them rusted, some caked in a deep reddish black liquid that looked suspiciously like blood. Some had been yanked from the ceiling, leaving holes that stared down at them pitifully as they tried to sidestep the broken links littering the ground. Every table in sight had tens of dozens knives stabbed right into the wood, sticking handle up with menace. Not just knives, but needles, crudely fashioned wooden stakes, other weapon-like items that you could probably skin someone with.

There was a noose hanging in one corner. Empty, worn down, and twirling ever so slightly. Handcuffs and shackles against the wall, high enough that whoever had them on would have to hang feet off of the ground. There looked to be a pit near the center of the room, covered up (poorly) with long wooden planks. Scratched up wooden planks, stained red in some places. There were some cabinets too, and what looked like a freezer, but there didn't look to be much in them. All of this in one big, dimly lit, open space. There was only one other room, directly across from them and shielded but a large metal door with some sort of padlock on it.

Yuffie took a slight step back, limbs suddenly very numb. "This looks like a torture chamber."

"I think it is." Riku's face was white… He swallowed hard—she hated hearing people swallow; it drove her insane. This time she didn't mind it so much, though.

They both stood rooted on the spot, unsure what to do, what else to say. It only lasted for a minute before curiosity took over. How long had something like this been here? Who did it belong to—no, who _had_ it belong to. Whoever had used this place was probably long gone, probably—

_Don't think about it,_ Yuffie told herself. _It's an old western town, remember? They just went gold mining or something… Went to wet their whistle before riding off into the sunset with a beautiful woman. Well, wait… Why's the psycho with the torture chamber always have to be a guy? Maybe it belonged to a psycho woman…_

Yeah… She tried not to think about it too much.

She glanced around the room some more, slowly pacing around as Riku examined the various knives up close. (_Please don't let him cut himself on one of those things_.) Honestly, how messed up was this whole place? To think that there was something like this sitting on the outskirts of her hometown and no one even knew about it. Or maybe they did know about it but never said anything. What was the story behind it? It was difficult to think about.

The girl paused in front of the large metal door, staring at it intently. Why was she getting such weird vibe from it? _It's just a door, right? A door in a freaky torture chamber… God, I need to stop think about that._

So she stared at it some more, tapped one end of her bat to the lock switch near the door handle. There was a dull clink of metal against metal that rang unpleasantly in her ears. It wasn't even locked properly, now that she got a good look at it. It was probably open. Then she went ahead and stepped inside.

You'd find a cramped room with no windows, just a single row of fluorescent lights hanging above her. They weren't working, even though she tried the light switch several times to no avail. You'd find a single bed all by its lonesome on one corner, a cabinet ripped from the wall and splintered to pieces in another. You'd find several blankets and ripped sheets strewn on the concrete floor. Were those blood stains on some of them? And nothing else. The room was empty save for those few things.

"So why put a lock on the door of there's nothing in here?"

Her voice echoed off the walls, bounced back at her rather quickly, and only then did she hear her own nervousness. This wasn't a good place to be. This was worse than her old school, which was a plain mess, but at least she had retained some level of comfort there for the past month.

She sighed and shrugged off her bag, setting it beside the door. She didn't even bother closing it, just decided she needed to sit down for a minute on the bed. Just as she took her seat, Riku stepped in. Aquamarine eyes swept over the room quickly before he gave a low whistle. "What happened in here?"

"It was like this when I came in."

"Huh. Well, there's no food in that freezer. Some guns, though."

"Guns?"

"Yeah."

"Who _freezes_ guns?"

The teen shrugged. Hell if he knew. Nothing really had to make sense anymore, so he didn't seem to care. Leaning against the doorframe, he eyed Yuffie in silence for a while then jerked his head behind him. "We should go check on Axel."

"Ookies."

And she got up. That was it. She just got to her feet, ready to go, unsuspecting—

Then a hiss sounded from above. Loud. Sharp, like a metal hook scraping against glass, making it scream in that unholy high pitch that tore your eardrums apart. Both teens jumped at the sound, almost pressed their hands to their ears, but something flew down from the ceiling before they even had the chance to.

It was a blur, light and dark at the same time, rushing at Yuffie the moment she let out a shriek. In a moment she was thrown against the wall, pinned by some Herculean force that would not _let go_. Her bat had fallen with a loud _CLINK!_ She could feel something sharp dig into her chest, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make her cry out—and that's when she got a good look.

Gray, paper white skin, cracked with thin lines of red trailing this way and that all over. Thin frame, almost skeletal. Rough hands now moving to her neck, gripping harder…

A single golden orb where the eye should be.

There was a mess of bluish-gray hair, mostly swept to one side, keeping the other eye hidden, but she didn't have to see it to know what this thing was. It opened its mouth wide, revealing a row of pearly fangs. It was just centimeters from her face, hissing at her with such ferocity that she felt her whole being tremble. Its breath had a rusty smell—

Yuffie squealed and cried at the same time, trying to kick it off. Not that it did her any good, but what else was there?

Riku. That's what.

He had taken up her bat, let out a vicious yell as he took a swing at the beast. He managed to knock it off balance, just long enough for Yuffie to collapse to the ground and dart back up just as fast. Her shirt was torn a bit, nearest her neck, but that was the least of her worries. She dove for her panda pack, whirled around as the human-like thing rushed at the both of them again.

She threw the bag in its face—though it merely swiped it away with a scream, spilling her belongings on the floor—and Riku swung yet again, hitting the creature's shin. Which was a bad, because it had no effect. Instead, the thing grabbed Riku and threw him into another wall. Yuffie couldn't keep from flinching when she heard the thud the teen's body made, the grunt he gave. Then the thing turned its marbled eye to her.

_No… No. OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod—_

After that, her mind went blank and she darted out the door as fast as her legs would carry her. It was following her. That was the only thing she noticed. It was following after her at a frikkin' _sprint_, and her tears wouldn't stop falling, and she almost tripped and fell into a table.

Table. Table!

The girl had a moment of genius, grabbed one of the tables, tried to throw it back but ending up toppling it over instead. It was enough to trip the thing behind her, enough for her to grab a knife stuck in another nearby table and whirl it at the monstrosity.

It missed. She grabbed another—groaned angrily when it wouldn't budge. Tried another.

The thing was getting up, was biting onto the overturned table and ripping the wood apart like it was a piece of paper or food. Its eye was on her, narrowed, angry. Fucking pissed. She had another knife, a longer one, tried to throw it but that thing had leapt towards her before she could even get a good aim—

It never reached her, though. Came just inches away from clawing her face right off, but didn't because a bullet clipped its hand and caused it to hiss even louder. A few drops of blood plopped against the floor. Yuffie had fallen flat on her butt, still crying, knife gripped in her shaking hand. Another gun shot, this time above the table and causing the feral creature to turn towards the source.

She had thought the gun was Riku. He had one, she knew. He'd showed it to her a couple of times days before, had put it in his bag before they left. So it made sense that he had gotten it out and came to her rescue a second time, right?

But it wasn't Riku who had fired the gun, it was someone else. Some stranger carefully making his way inside through the side door, Axel behind him. (God, Axel looked scared. Really scared, in an angry way, but still scared.) Who was that blonde stranger?

He had odd hair—a mullet. Something like it. Who did mullets anymore? Any other time, in any other situation, Yuffie would have said he was cute. Would have gone as far as to say that, maybe, he was boyfriend material like the other two guys with her. But that was the furthest thing from her mind. The only thing she was focused on was the fact that the blonde had a gun aimed at that _thing_ and apparently knew how to use it.

There was something about his expression, though. He didn't look scared…not as scared. More… Worry? Pained, almost. He was carefully approaching the creature that was now arched down and hissing at him. Why wasn't it moving? Why didn't it attack him? Was it because he had a weapon? Whatever the case, Yuffie stayed put.

The stranger started talking—but not to her. To the thing. Quietly, almost soothing.

"Zex… Zexion, calm down."

It gave a low hiss, moving forward—then stopping when it heard the slight click from the gun. The man was about to shoot again. He held his hands steady though, voice stern this time.

"Zex, it's me. It's okay."

"What the hell are you talking to it for?" Axel whispered angrily, only causing the stranger to shush him. ("I got this, okay?")

He did seem to have it. The creature's… Its demeanor was changing, if only slightly. It still hissed, still tried to move closer, but it seemed calmer now. More curious. Out of the corner of her eye, Yuffie could see Riku limping out of the room, stopping in the doorway when he caught sight of the scene. The creature shot a glance in the teen's direction, making said teen go stiff, but the stranger whistled loudly.

"You focus on me. Leave 'em alone, Zex."

"Just shoot him already," Axel snapped, tense as well.

"_No._ Zex…"

This Zexion, if that was its name, sat motionless then, still crouched to the ground. It felt like a millennium passed by, but it was just a matter of minutes before the thing's body relaxed—no, collapsed on the floor. Yuffie hadn't even realized she was holding her breath until she let out a breath of relief.

The blonde stranger was quick to rush towards the stilled figure, setting his gun aside and holding the thing—Zexion… Zexion was its name—in his arms. He shook him a bit, blue eyes wide. "Zexion! For the love of— Wake up, damn it!"

The rest of them were completely still, just staring, not fully realizing just how close—how very _close_—they had all been to dying.

Yuffie felt anger well up in her chest—which now felt like it was bleeding—at the mullet-haired blue eyed stranger. How dare he worry about that _thing_ that had just attacked her when she was very clearly shaken and very clearly scared shitless! All she could do was watch the man and his unconscious friend—could you call it a friend? She was so dazed, so out of it, she didn't even notice when Axel walked over to her and knelt by her side. "Hey. Snap out of it. Yuffie?"

"I'm fine…" Why did her voice sound so snippy all of a sudden? Her jaw felt tense. "Go check on Riku."

He didn't, though, checking for himself to see if she was truly fine while Riku made his way over to the group looking even whiter than he had when they had first walked into the place.

Zexion opened his eyes again at that moment, causing all of them to stare at him fearfully. They were blue. His eyes. Not gold. Blue, and normal, and… His body seemed normal too. Less pale, not cracked and traced with red lines. There was color in his face. No fangs, no raspy sounds drawn from his mouth. His eye looked all around the warehouse, looked at each face he didn't recognize then at the one face he did recognize. Some sort of realization hit him—that he had just flipped his lid without warning, had appeared without warning. He had a tired look to him as he sighed, sat up from the blonde stranger's arms.

"You okay, Zex?"

The blue haired man didn't reply, rubbed a hand to his forehead and stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he glanced back at Yuffie, who seemed to be staring at him the hardest, and spoke with the slightest hint of contempt in his voice.

"What the hell are you looking at?"


	8. Namine: And She Had a Happy Never After

**Sunday Oct. 23, 6812; Republic of C'ia, Council Chamber**

"It's not a matter of right or wrong; what matters is how this will affect our people."

"But what about the girl? We can't just _force_ this on her. She should have a say—"

"No one's forcing her. We're giving her a say."

"No, you're taking advantage of her! You honestly think this is what's best for C'ia? You already know what her answer's going to be; you're just adding insult to injury by posing this as some sort of question—"

The room went quiet the moment she opened the door. The fighting stopped. All eyes on her. Let the awkward moment begin.

_What were they just talking about?_ Naminé couldn't help but wonder as she stood in the middle of the doorway. She let her hands fall from the door, folding them neatly in front of her as she took in the scene before her. The Council's chamber looked no different than any other day. It wasn't anything large or extravagant; just a medium sized room with an oval table in the center. Around it were eight chairs, three for each horizontal side and one for each rounded end. All of the chairs were filled save for the one by the opposite end, by her grandmother's seat.

She had recognized the two voices immediately as two of her grandmother's closest friends and most influential Council members. The first voice belonged to Luxord, a sensible and handsome man, intelligent, who had a way of making her feel uneasy for no exact reason but uneasy all the same. The second voice belonged to a man who didn't make the girl feel as uncomfortable, but he had his moments. Her personal body guard at one point, but now an advisor, Auron.

They both stared at her now, along with the five other people seated at the table. All older men, save for the teen's grandmother and one other woman who was just a handful of years older than Naminé. She only eyed them for a moment before locking her gaze with her grandmother's.

You wouldn't guess the woman had just reached her eighty-fourth birthday. At most, you would assume sixty. Maybe mid-fifties, but not eighties. It was impossible with skin that smooth, a frame so thin and fit, hair so very blonde that it almost looked white. The only things that gave away the woman's age were her demeanor and her eyes. Especially her eyes. You could get sucked in by that much blue and not even realize it. She didn't know how, but Naminé just felt like those eyes _looked_ like they'd been through nearly a century of…well, everything. They could see right through you, if you weren't careful.

The owner of those eyes scowled at her now, held out a hand to Naminé above the table as if the girl were inches away instead of several feet. "Naminé."

The girl was silent a moment before clearing her throat and giving a short bow. "Milady. You called for me?"

Her grandmother nodded before patting the seat beside her, the one by the rounded end of the table. "Come sit."

Wordlessly, Naminé did as she was told.

The silence didn't die down as she walked, heels clicking on the tiled floor. The others continued to stare, if only for a few seconds, before averting their gazes away from the blonde. To the table, to the floor, to their hands resting so stiffly in front of them… Anywhere but at her. The only person who never looked away, who had a rather tired expression painted on her face the entire time, was her grandmother.

She settled into her seat with a slight sigh, hands folded neatly in front of her. She eyeballed the table, unsure what to say in such an awkward situation—not that walking in on a Council meeting was awkward in itself, it was just that _no one_ wanted to say anything now that she was in the room.

Her grandmother felt the need to point this out. The woman sighed and glanced at each person seated. "Oh, come now. A moment ago I couldn't get the lot of you to shut up, and now you're all speechless?"

Auron looked like he was about to speak—and Luxord looked about ready to interrupt him—but the old woman waved her hand and shut them both up before they'd even begun. "Don't. You've done your bickering. It's my turn to talk… Naminé."

The girl looked up then, bracing herself because she had a bad feeling. Whenever the woman spoke in that _tone_, no, it couldn't be good.

"As I'm sure you're already aware, things aren't looking good for the Third Battalion. Lieutenant Jerad is requesting more backup—but we have none. We can't pull them out, either, because we run the risk of Tytonian forces invading our capital from the southern border. The way it's looking now, our armies are basically at a standstill until one or the other gives up."

Her grandmother paused, drumming her manicured fingers on the table. She seemed lost in thought. The others watched her with held breaths. Quietly, she went on:

"We won't be able to win this war, Naminé."

Words she didn't want to hear, even if she agreed with them. She was aware of this fact. C'ia had been locked in war for so long, this came as no surprise. It had only been a matter of time. The question was why was the Council just now coming to this realization?

"However—" It was here the girl snapped out of her thoughts, met her grandmother's gaze curiously. "—we were just discussing a way to end this peacefully."

The girl frowned. "Peacefully? With Tyto? You're joking, right?"

"Listen." Her grandmother said it quietly and simply enough, and yet she might as well have snapped at the girl. There was just something in her voice that made Naminé shut her mouth. "I'm not talking about Tyto. I'm talking about Jieva. Word's gone round that Queen Priscilla is making negotiations for some sort of military alliance with Tyto—"

This was where she tuned out, if only for a little bit. The moment the word Jieva was thrown into the air. Jieva. A collection of planets, all from different backgrounds, different customs, different languages; planets spread out throughout the galaxy yet all united under one name. _The_ Jieva, the vast empire that had been around long before she had been born, the empire with armed forces that no planet in their galaxy could compare to. The super power with great political and economic hold on pretty much the entire Eastern Pocket. That Jieva? And their queen was contacting the enemy? This would only end badly. If Jieva got involved…

_We're all dead._ The thought brought a sharp pang to her heart, made her want to scream out at the injustice of it all. No one could face up to an empire that large. No one wanted to, and if they did, well, they weren't in their right mind.

"Naminé?"

She straightened herself, gripping her hands together tightly. Her voice was a bit shaky. "Yes? Tyto and Jieva are making an alliance…"

"That's the word. Apparently they're planning a full on invasion. We won't stand a chance. That's the simple truth about it, I'm afraid. But, yes, an alliance." Her grandmother looked down the table, towards one of the other men seated. (How the hell could she sound so calm about this?) A scruffy old man with a tangled mess of reddish brown hair looked back at the woman gravely. "Isn't that right, Walker?"

The man nodded, his deep voice relieving some of the tension in the room. "Yes, Milady. Last we heard their negotiations were on hold until… Well, until we gave our response."

At that last bit, his icy blue eyes seemed to flit in Naminé's direction—she wasn't entirely sure—and she could feel the tension rise in the others yet again. She glanced at Auron, who had his usual scowl stretched across his face. It seemed a bit broader now, though. She stole another glance at Luxord's direction, taking in his peeved expression, the way he drummed his ringed fingers on the table. Finally she looked back to her grandmother. "What response are we supposed to be giving? What's this about?"

The old woman played around with the charm on her silver necklace as she spoke, her tone still oddly collected. "Jieva has gone behind the Tytonian council's back and has requested an alliance with us as well. In fact, Prince Liam himself was the one who contacted us just the other day. He and his mother are split on our affairs. The Queen supports Tyto for economic reasons; the Prince holds us in his favor because of his inflated sense of justice and morality and something about 'Jieva's responsibility to preserve our galaxy's peace…' It's all very difficult."

"But what does he _want_?" That was all Naminé wanted answered. There was no reason for the woman to beat around the bush, and it only served to increase her anxiety. This wasn't like her grandmother, a woman who was always blunt and to the point with her words and actions. Those were the qualities that had once made her a great queen before the monarchy was destroyed… What was the problem here and why was everyone staring at her so intently all of a sudden?

Her grandmother paused yet again, still fiddling with her necklace. Her delicate fingers came to a halt when she spoke again. "To put it simply, Naminé, Prince Liam is asking your hand in marriage. If you say yes, he'll convince his mother to call off the invasion. When the Tytonian king finds out, he'll have no choice but to surrender. We'll have the protection of Jieva, the manpower necessary to regain control of Southern C'ia—"

"He wants me to _marry_ him?"

"Of course, he gave us a few conditions. First and foremost, he wants the Council dissolved and the monarchy restored. C'ia will have to renounce its independence and become part of the Jievan Empire. Though, technically, he'll be the heir to two thrones—"

"He just wants more power! He doesn't give a damn about preserving peace. We're just another chunk of land for him to add to his 'empire,' his—"

"The fact is, Naminé, we're in no position to complain," her grandmother snapped, squeezing her necklace charm in her fist. "You can say no and we'll be run down anyway. Or you can say yes, and at least we'll go out with some dignity intact. It's your choice."

Choice? Ah, and this was what they had been arguing about earlier.

"_We can't just _force_ this on her. She should have a say—"_

"_No one's forcing her. We're giving her a say."_

"_No, you're taking advantage of her! You already know what her answer's going to be; you're just adding insult to injury by posing this as some sort of question—"_

How right Auron had been. No wonder he was so indignant, was so opposed. It didn't matter what she chose. It didn't matter what she _wanted_; she'd ultimately have to say yes if she wanted things to end peacefully. It was plain unfair, downright… This was far too much to dump on one girl's shoulders on such short notice. She was so upset by it all, she couldn't even think straight.

"It's truly for the best, Princess," the one woman near the other end of the table spoke, her eyes seeming to plead with Naminé. "Our people can't take any more of this fighting. They want the troops home. The troops want to come home. If Jieva and Tyto join forces, we'll lose."

She felt the urge to scream. _Just shut up…_

"But Jieva never felt the need to step in before." Another man. She couldn't remember his name. He was beside Auron. "Why the hell do they decide to help us now?"

_All of you, just shut up._

"We should consider ourselves lucky that they even considered helping us at all."

_Why won't you…_

Auron scoffed, slammed a fist onto the table. "They waited until both forces were worn down and exhausted, then they offer to help in order to drive another wedge between the two. That's all they've ever done. Let others do the fighting; we'll just pick up the pieces when they're finished."

"And I suppose you have a better idea?" Luxord asked.

"SHUT UP!"

The chatter stopped, the light bickering being passed back and forth alongside the main conversation stopped. Everyone just stopped and stared, doe-eyed, too stunned to say anything. Naminé had risen from her seat then, had both hands pressed against the table and an indignant look on her petite face. In fact, she was just about out of breath and tinted red from shouting. When she spoke, her tone had a hint of venom to it.

"How about this for an idea? The next time you go and try to make decisions about _my_ life, you try asking me first!"

It was as if she had gone around and slapped each and every one of them in the face. They looked so taken aback, so hurt at her outburst. _And they should_, she thought. It served them right. It was only fair that she got her say. And for a moment she felt satisfied, fulfilled even, that she had managed to make them feel like dirt.

But her grandmother took that feeling away.

"How about this for an idea, Naminé." She sounded so calm, looked so unfazed by her granddaughter's outburst, that Naminé felt a bit hurt herself. "You try thinking about the bigger picture instead of being selfish. This isn't just about you. We've been in war for nearly three decades now, with no progress. People are dying every day, for a cause both sides have long forgotten. You have the chance to end it all without more senseless bloodshed. All we want to know is if you'll cooperate. Because Prince Liam is only giving us three days to respond. If we haven't by then, the invasion will go underway.

"Now, are you going to step up?"

That was all it took for the girl to wilt under her grandmother's gaze. One simple question that really wasn't as simple as it should have been.

Was she going to step up?

"I guess I don't have much of a choice," she replied bitterly, weakly.

Her grandmother sighed and rose to her feet. "None of us do, child. That was the whole point of this meeting… Council's dismissed."

~x~

**Wednesday Oct. 26, 6812; Republic of C'ia, Councilman's Office**

The wedding was in a nine days. November 4th. That had been the arrangement. The Council had contacted the Prince and his mother, and the two had responded by saying they would work things out with Tyto. Call off the invasion. Also, was it possible for the bride-to-be and groom-to-be to meet in person? Of course. How did a week from that Wednesday sound? And the arrangement had been made. Naminé would see Liam for the first time in roughly a week, just three days before the wedding.

The entire time her grandmother told her all of this, she kept thinking of different ways she could possibly weasel her way out of the meeting. She could play sick. No, but her grandmother was too smart to fall for that… Maybe, with Auron's help, she could fake her own death. That would be the end of it. She'd have to go elsewhere, start a new life, take on a different name. Maybe Lucy… She had always thought that was a pretty name.

"What if I dropped dead before the wedding, Auron?" That was the first thing out of her mouth the moment she walked into his office that afternoon. He was busy at his desk, writing something. She didn't go to see him often, but she had to admit that it was a cozy area, complete with two sofas, several glass bookcases pressed against the garnet walls, a desk that was begging to be organized, and a painting right behind it. Naminé stopped by the doorway and eyed the painting.

It was a portrait of her father, the late king. It was almost as old as she was, and it still looked brand new. How odd… The man seemed to be staring right back at her from his seat, legs crossed and hands folded above one knee in a reserved manner. Everything about him was so poised, so in place, almost soothing. His white suit, his polished shoes. His golden hair slicked back and pinned into a ponytail. The girl stared at those ice blue eyes that seemed to speak to her for what seemed like an eternity before Auron's voice pulled her out of her trance.

"Do you miss him?"

The girl never took her eyes off the painting, not even as she took a seat on one of the sofas. Auron glanced up from his papers only for a moment, thoughtful, before continuing his report. Naminé didn't reply right away.

"Sometimes… I mean, he was my father; of course I'm going to miss him, but…I forget how ruthless he was when I see him like this. It's like he never died."

"Mm."

Auron and her grandmother. Those were the only two people she felt comfortable talking to about her father. The monarchy on C'ia had ended after he died—no, after he had been executed by his own people. He'd been a tyrant in every sense of the word, taking after his own father. Though, to be honest, her grandfather hadn't been nearly as bad. He hadn't driven away any and all foreigners, hadn't tried to force his people into submission by controlling every aspect of their lives from what they ate, how they spoke, to what they wore. Her grandfather, unlike her father, hadn't killed his own wife because of her unfaithfulness… Her grandfather hadn't waged a senseless war for the sake of gaining more power. Then again, neither had her father. He'd just added fuel to the fire by further provoking Tyto.

He would have been the undoing of their kingdom if it weren't for a number of men and women who stepped up and brought the king down. Her grandmother hadn't wanted it, but saw no other way so she never stepped in to stop them. He'd been "arrested" in their home on the eve of Naminé's tenth birthday, and the following day he'd been… Well, she didn't like to think about it. She hadn't heard of or seen the man since.

Not long after, the Council had been set up with her grandmother as its head, and for six years it had been going well. Six years the people only worried about getting through the war, about trying to end it once and for all. And now this stupid wedding…

The blonde teen sighed, slouched down in her seat and picked at the fabric of her dress. "I don't want to do this, Auron. It's not fair."

"I know."

"At the same time, it's not like I can just change my mind, either. So many lives depend on this ceremony. So many people are counting on me for this." She was up again, pacing this time. The man was watching her with an unreadable expression, letting her pour her thoughts out. "It's just… Three days wasn't enough time to make a proper decision, especially one so big, so life-changing. But what _really_ gets me is that Jieva is doing this in the name of 'peace' when all they want is more control. The fact that the Council and Grandma are going along with this is just…it's…"

"There's no other way, though." Lazily, Auron set his pen down and folded his fingers together, a thoughtful look crossing his scarred face. "The invasion was supposed to take place a week from now. We wouldn't have had time to sit down and think things out thoroughly. As much as I hate to admit it, Princess, this may be the only way… It will have to be. The Council will be dissolved first thing tomorrow, and after that all decisions will rest with your grandmother."

She understood all of this, she really did, and she agreed one hundred percent. But still.

The girl fell silent and came to a halt in front of the man's desk. Her arms were crossed tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she looked back up and replied, "What if I ran away?"

It was such a childish and selfish question, and yet the thought was still there in her mind. The desire was there, as much as she regretted it.

Auron didn't even blink. In fact, he chuckled. Like this whole affair was some sort of joke. "You wouldn't."

"…How can you be so sure?"

"You're too kind. You wouldn't forsake your people."

He made it sound so simple. It wasn't, though. It never was…

After a long moment of silence and thought, the girl turned and left the room.

~x~

**Wednesday Nov. 1, 6812; Republic of C'ia, Gardens**

"Ah, but she's even more lovely in person! Come here, come closer, dear. You're stunning!"

As flattering as it was, she really wasn't in the mood for this woman's praise… In fact, just seeing this stranger's face was enough to make Naminé want to groan in annoyance.

Three days were left. Just three days before the ceremony, before she'd be forced to walk down that aisle and give up whatever free will her nation had left. Yet, instead of pretending to be ill for the day or playing dead, Naminé found herself woken up early by her grandmother and promptly dressed in an ebony suit. Her hair was even done up for the occasion. Her grandmother looked just as business-like in her own suit, and—did Naminé's eyes betray her? She was wearing their family seal on her ring, on her necklace, even on her earrings. She looked…well, queenly. More so than usual. Before she could even gather herself that Wednesday morning, Naminé was dragged out to the palace courtyard where a figure awaited them patiently in front of the golden hedges nearest the entrance.

It was a woman donning an extravagant jade dress she had probably plucked right out of the Victorian Era—it was _ancient_, actually; the teen was surprised they even made clothes in that fashion anymore—and a crown to match. She had a rather thin face, a pointed nose and chin, and yet there was a charm to her angular…ness that you couldn't ignore. The moment Naminé and her grandmother approached, the ginger haired woman flashed milky whites at them and let her gray eyes examine the both of them. Naminé a little too long for comfort.

The woman, Queen Priscilla, rose from the marble bench, heels clicking loudly against the walkway as she took a closer step to Naminé and ran long fingers down the girl's cheek. "My word, you look just like your father. Got his eyes and everything. He was a great man, wasn't he?"

The girl scowled. "He was a dictator whose people feared him."

"That doesn't mean he wasn't great."

_What?_

But the Queen merely chuckled and ignored the questioning stare Naminé was giving her. Instead, she turned to her grandmother and gave a bow of the head. "Naimone. You look lovely. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

Ever the polite one, her grandmother smiled. "The pleasure's all mine. Where is your son?"

"Oh, he's off somewhere examining the courtyard. Oh, which is stunning, by the way. These flowers!"

"Most of them are imported. They're native to the Granier Islands on Pandora, I do believe."

"You don't say? How do you keep them so healthy?"

"You'd have to ask my gardener. I never touch the things. Never did have much of a green thumb."

How could they just stand there and talk about flowers when there were bigger matters at hand? It was as if they didn't care for the reason behind this meeting at all. Or, at least, that's how it seemed with the Jievan Queen. The girl's grandmother looked quite bored with the conversation, and yet Queen Priscilla went on and on about trivial things without taking notice. It was all Naminé could do not to clear her throat loudly, ("A_HEM_!"), and fuss at the both of them.

Instead, she gave her grandmother a look. _What are you doing?_

And the woman shot her own look right back out of the corner of her eye. _Giving you a chance at privacy. Go find Liam._

At least, that's what she imagined she had heard. She took the hint all the same and ventured into the maze-like hedges with a hint of relief.

The maze itself wasn't that tall or intricate; it barely came up to her waist and was so spaced out so that it was very easy to navigate her way around. She hadn't visited the place in a couple of months, though, so she wasn't entirely familiar with the layout.

New trees seemed to have been added, each looming high into the air, sprouting pastel pink blossoms and a few berries. The flowers looked as lively as ever, varying in size and shape, and especially in color. It was like someone had snatched a rainbow from the sky and sprinkled it onto the curling petals. They seemed to glow with color, if only slightly. It helped soothe the girl's nerves as she wandered down the marble walkways.

_How rude is it that they set up this meeting, invite themselves to our home… And now I have to go looking for him?_ As upset as she was by it, she kept herself calm. There was no need getting worried over little things, not now. Her main concern was making a good impression. It was crucial, according to her grandmother.

"_We need them to know that we trust them. That's what this meeting's about."_

Trust. Right…

"Princess?"

She stopped at the sound of the foreign voice, turning this way and that for its source. She was in an area where three other walkways came together with hers, forming a circle in the middle of the plants. A fountain could be seen, gushing sparkling fluid that seemed to dance as it fell. It was by that fountain that she spotted the stranger.

Tall, not freakishly so, but enough to make her feel shorter than she already was. He looked to be a couple of years older than her. Amber eyes, an angled face so similar to his mother's and yet more fitting. His hair was a deep teal, cropped short and sticking this way and that in an interesting fashion. It suited him. He, too, was dressed up for the occasion in his own pinstripe suit—well, just the shirt, tie, and pants. His jacket was set down, neglected, on the fountain's edge, along with his crown. (Why, why did they both have to wear crowns? As if everyone didn't already know they were royalty.) She had to admit, though… He was handsome. Very much so.

Naminé gave him a polite smile. "Prince Liam. I didn't expect to see you here." _Especially since you should have already greeted us alongside your mother._

He smiled back, stepping closer. Before she realized it, he was taking her hand and giving it a light kiss. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"Thank you… Your mother said the same."

"So you two met?"

"Briefly."

An awkward silence. Naminé gently pulled her hand free, tucked it behind her back and glanced around blankly. Liam gave a small sigh.

"I understand how you feel about this," he said quietly, getting straight to the point. A serious air was about him now.

Naminé didn't quite look back at him, frowned slightly. "Do you?"

"It's a lot at once, and it's not really fair to you or your people."

"Right."

"And you probably want nothing to do with us."

"To be honest, I don't." Her tone was polite, her voice was soft, and yet her eyes betrayed her bitterness. She looked at the young man now. "To be honest, I find it hard to believe that you're doing this out of the interest of peace."

"It's not like we're going to take complete control over your people. Look at all of our other territories. They retain their customs, their practices, their laws, even their languages. We simply ask that they abide our own laws as well, recognize our royal family as their own—"

"And if they don't?"

Liam scowled. "It's not like we mercilessly cut people down."

"So what was this talk of the invasion?"

"My mother's idea. I never wanted this war—"

"It was _our_ war from the beginning and it still is."

"And other planets are being dragged into it."

She fell silent on that note, indignation written on her round face.

"This is your kingdom's best bet, Princess," Liam tried to assure her. He even reached for her hand once, and in spite of herself she let him. He gripped it tightly, pleading with her with his golden eyes. "It's probably not the most ideal, but it'll be enough to give your people peace. Isn't that what you want most of all?"

Yes. That was what she would like to say. Yet…

Naminé sighed, stared at their intertwined hands. Reluctantly, she gripped back. Her grandmother's words floated around in her head. "It's all about trust."

For whatever reason, the boy smiled. "You won't regret this."

But she definitely would.

~x~

**Saturday Nov. 4, 6812; C'ian Airship**

At this point, she didn't care anymore. In fact, at this point she was welcoming the fact that she would soon inherit two thrones instead of one. She was looking forward to seeing Liam again, even though they had only spoken that one time in the courtyard.

By the time she was woken up and dressed in an elaborately stitched white gown, her family's crest sewed right across her bosom, she knew. By the time she had pinned her mess of golden hair into a tight bun, had put on her makeup, had inspected herself fully in her mirror, she knew. She didn't mind this arrangement anymore. It was for the best.

But of course she was just lying to herself so she felt better.

They were on their flight to Jieva now. They as in herself, her grandmother, Auron, and a couple of other body guards. Just in case. It wasn't anything large, just an old fashioned plane designed for space travel, a plane that would get them to the empire's main planet in a little less than a day. The other dozens of dozens of passengers were relatively quiet, sleeping at this late hour as they drifted through clouds of dust and stars and flashing lights.

Naminé was seated beside her grandmother who wasn't paying attention to her, and in the aisle to their right sat Auron who was…well, not really paying attention to her either. They both were staring off into space, thoughts floating around their heads, thoughts that Naminé wished she could snatch up and examine.

_This is the big day._

She should be excited.

_We end this war for good. Today. All it takes is an "I do."_

Her people would be at ease. The fighting would stop, the violence would cease. She should be excited.

_Even if we won't be C'ians anymore, even if we'll live under the rule of Liam and his mother. We'll be safe. We'll be happy._

But she wasn't. That was all she could think about. That was the only thing on her mind. That, and how awfully selfish she was, even if it was justified.

_I'd give anything…anything to get out of this._

That's what she thought, and she hated it.

Then gun shots sounded loudly behind them, and all thoughts left her completely. Before she knew it, people were screaming. More shots were being fired, shouts were thrown in the air. "HEADS DOWN! PUT YOUR HEADS DOWN!"

Naminé's eyes went wide. Her hand flew to her grandmother's, gripped it tightly. The older woman heaved a sigh, her voice wavering. "God, help us…"

"Find the girl. Kill her when you do." The voice again. It was unnerving how close it sounded.

Naminé looked to her grandmother worriedly, whispering, "What's going on?"

Her grandmother leaned over, looked as far back as she could down the aisle and gave a quiet swear at what she saw. "They're Tytonian."

"What?" The girl couldn't believe it, didn't want to. She glanced back herself, spotted the half dozen men further back in matching black suits. Pitch black, like the shades they wore, like the guns they carried and waved in passengers' faces. They were examining every face, barking orders to every shivering individual. "But how… How did they find us?"

"They're probably targeting any flight heading to Jievan territory."

How her grandmother could make herself sound so calm in this situation was beyond her. Naminé was a second away from panicking. She gripped her grandmother's hand tighter. "What do we do?"

Auron and one of their body guards were already out of their seats and beckoning towards them, holding out hands for the females to take. Luxord was behind them, speaking soothingly to other passengers shaking in their seats, instructing them to stay calm, to follow his directions as they tried to handle the situation. Auron, the person closest to Naminé, firmly gripped her hand. "Come this way."

Her grandmother shook her head, rising out of her seat in spite of her fear. "But they'll see us."

"We need to get you both out of here, now _come_." The dark haired man was pulling a gun hidden in his coat pocket as he called over his shoulder roughly, "Luxord, cover us from behind."

He was answered by a nod, and soon their little group was rushing down the plane's aisle, off to who knew where. It all happened so fast, Naminé wasn't even sure if it was real. The shouts behind them grew, the gun shots became louder, closer.

She felt her head throb as she and her grandmother were ushered into a room near the front of the plane, an emergency room. The Escape Pod Room. It was circular, large. There were controls hooked to the wall, controls that Auron was working with now. Opposite them sat five large rectangular capsules, the Pods, each with their latches opened and their signals turned off. Well, four out of the five, anyway. They were offline. Only one was activated at the moment.

The door behind them was slammed roughly. The guard whose name Naminé could never remember eyed her grandmother with a frown. "I apologize for this, Milady."

Naminé eyeballed the activated Pod. "There's only room for two people in each one."

Her grandmother was silent for a moment before looking over in the control area. "Auron, take Naminé with you. Get her out of here."

"No!" The girl cried.

The man scowled. "Your Majesty—"

"They're after her, Auron. She's our country's only hope." More gun shots, louder shouting. Someone was banging on the door. The nameless guard was holding it down, keeping the men on the other side out. The elderly woman ignored it, clenching her fists together. "Protect that hope, Auron. I'm begging you. She's all I have left."

"Grandma…"

This woman was crazy. She was crazy. She couldn't stay behind, she needed to get in that Pod with her. Or, at least, climb into one of the other ones. But it would take several minutes to activate them, to get them online, to get them set for launching. By the time it was all taken care of, it would be too late…

Her grandmother was in front of her now, tears running down her entrancing eyes. It scared Naminé. The woman planted a kiss on the girl's forehead. "I love you."

"We can't leave without you!"

"If they get to you, they'll kill you on sight. Don't you understand that?"

She did, but… No, this wasn't… "What about you?"

"There's no time. There's no time to get us out safe, my child. You need to go."

"They're definitely in here!"

"Blast the door open."

The guard couldn't hold on for much longer. The pounding was insistent now. Relentless. They would be in here in a matter of moments. There was such a ruckus going on outside.

Auron had given an angry groan and rushed over, swept the girl up bridal style and place her inside the Pod before jumping in as well. He had just pulled the lid down, had just sealed it and secured it, when the door burst apart and shards of metal sprinkled the room. There were more of the men now, guns ready, guns firing. They saw the Pod, noticed it beginning to launch, tried to stop it—

A bullet had hit her grandmother. That was all she saw when the Pod shifted and headed out into space. She saw the woman's body stain red and fall, heard the _thump_, felt her heart drop. She clawed at the glass of the window, shrieking.

"GRANDMA!"

But it was too late.

The Pod had already shot through the opening in the plane, had cleared a path and was now jetting quickly through space, leaving a hole in side of the plane. So fast it had all happened.

She sobbed uncontrollably, pressing herself against Auron who could only place a hand on her head comfortingly. "Shh…"

It seemed like ages. Ages before the Pod slowed and started to drift steadily, ages before the girl could quiet herself and merely stared out the window lifelessly, ages before it dawned on her how messed up this whole thing was. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she next spoke.

"What now?"

"We wait. That's all we can do until this thing lands." He was quiet for a moment, examining the screen floating in the middle of the Pod just inches in front of their cushioned seats. He pointed at it, tracing the path it seemed to follow on the holographic map. "See this? It's programmed to take you to the closest emergency port. Looks like it's heading to Luma."

"Where is that?"

"A little beyond our galaxy, but not too much so. We should be there after a while. A few hours, maybe."

Hours…

"What will happen to the other passengers?"

"I don't know."

_Why don't you know? _She thought angrily, even though there was no reason for it. Her whole body was shaking. "Why is this happening? How did they know what flight we were on?"

The man was silent for a long time, staring out the window himself. He sighed, lifted his free hand to take off his glasses and clean them."My guess…is someone within our ranks probably leaked information. I couldn't name who, but it's not too much of a stretch. Tyto doesn't want the alliance. They don't want the marriage. If that means they have to kill you, then they'll do it."

That was that. That was the logical answer, the real reason—but it wasn't what she wanted to hear. It wasn't what she was looking for. She couldn't explain it, but she didn't feel like that was it. There had to be another reason, something else…

They fell into another silence, let themselves get lost in their own thoughts. Naminé felt numb. Extremely numb. She couldn't think straight, couldn't think at all. After a while a small beeping filled the air. It took her a moment to realize that it was Auron's phone.

The man dug the cell out of his pocket, eyed the screen for a second before clicking the green button and answering, "Auron. Report."

A voice echoed from the speaker. One of the councilmen. He sounded tired. Scared and tired. "C'ia's under attack. Our troops are falling back."

Auron narrowed his eyes angrily. "What the hell happened?"

"They outnumbered us. Somehow they got more men. I don't know how…" A pause. Static in the background."We're calling on Jieva for backup as we speak."

"So they know."

"Yes. How is the Grand Chairwoman?"

The question was met with silence. Auron and Naminé exchanged a look, and it took everything the blonde teen had in her not to start crying again. Auron's voice was low. "…She's dead. Our flight was ambushed. Tytonian spies, I think. They drove us off."

"Wha… And the princess?"

"She's with me. We're heading to Luma as we speak. But we may need backup as soon as possible."

"Copy that. Hang in there." Then he hung up.

Auron thought for a moment, tucked his phone away before eyeing Naminé gravely. "When we land, we need to get on another train. A ship, a plane, anything."

"Where?"

"It doesn't matter where, so long as we leave. If they're still on that plane, then they'll be able to track our Pod coordinates. As soon as we land, we're sitting ducks. We need to get you somewhere safe until we can figure things out."

"I'm scared."

"I know."

"What happens now?"

He didn't have an answer.

~x~

**Saturday Nov. 4, 6812; Luma, Docking Port**

Just as Auron had said, their Pod had landed at one of the emergency ports in Luma. It was a small planet, though not as small as C'ia. Definitely a lot busier with its bustling streets and people every which way and that, going about their business. There was such an urban atmosphere to it all that it made Naminé feel uncomfortable.

She stuck close to the wary man in front of her, let him lead the way through the streets as they approached what looked like a ship station. There was an archway just yards away from them and on it a sign that read **Eden Express: Bon Voyage!**

There was a heavy stream of people heading in the same direction, most carting luggage or pulling along young children or their partners.

_Hurry, the ship will leave soon._

_I'm so EXCITED! I've never been to Eden before!_

_What do you think it's like? Is it nice?_

_What stop are we again?_

She heard it all, just constant chatter amongst other people she was unfamiliar with. She would have let herself get lost in it all if it hadn't been for the flash of black in the corner of her eye. She glanced behind her as they walked, noticed three figures following after them. Figures in suits. The Tytonian crest on their chests.

No… How had they found them? How did they get to them so quickly?

She tugged roughly at Auron's sleeve. "Auron…"

The man glanced back, noticed the figures weaving in and out of people, heading for them. "Shit."

They were getting closer now. No, they were pushing people now, rushing for them. Auron was quick to grab Naminé and shove her forward. "Go."

"Wait—"

"No time. Run!"

Once again she let her feet lead her, ignoring the indignant cries of people who had the misfortune of being pushed aside and the curious and angry stares. She could feel Auron's hand on her, heard the click of his gun as he readied it in his other hand. Some people took notice of it, started crying out.

"Oh my God!"

"He's got a gun!"

And much more, but she ignored it all.

They ran straight for the ramp that passengers were boarding, just barely passing a couple of security guards who weren't aware of their situation and were trying to get a hold of them as well. They made it as far up the ramp as possible before Naminé felt the hand on her shoulder pull free, then she stopped to stare at the man behind her. He was turning back to… Was he leaving?

Wide eyed, Naminé grabbed Auron's arm. "You aren't coming with me?"

"I need you out of harm's way. I'll take care of them myself."

"You can't leave me!"

"Do this, Naminé." And the way he snapped at her, the way he called her name made her take a shaky step back.

She shook her head. "But…the wedding."

"We'll smooth things out with Jieva."

"Grandma…and C'ia—"

"It's fallen, Princess. Go! Get away, be safe, but don't go to Jieva and _don't_ come back home. Not yet."

She could see the guards, the men from the plane. They were rushing up the ramp now. An alarm was going off, but it wasn't for security reasons. A voice sounded in the air, from the ship's speakers. _The EE is now departing…_

She had to go. Something wouldn't let her, though. There was a pleading tone in her voice. "But—"

"You listen to me. Go to Eden and find someplace safe. I promise someone will find you, just be safe…"

And that was that before the man shoved her through the door with the last of the boarding passengers. The door closed, and that was it.

She found herself alone.

~x~

**Saturday Nov. 4, 6812; Eden Express**

This wasn't good. This wasn't good. She felt sick. Dizzy, almost. Where was she supposed to go? What did she do in a situation like this? Why, why, _WHY_ hadn't Auron come with her? She had no way of contacting him, no way to know if he'd be alright, if he was even alive. What about her grandmother's…her body? And the wedding…

_What do I do?_

No phone. No money. No computer to use. Maybe they had on one this ship, but how long would it take for her to connect with someone at the palace?

_But they got to the palace too…_

Normally Naminé was able to keep her head, able to figure out something. Now was not one of those times. She had plenty options, she was sure, she just didn't know what those options were and which one would be best. What was the word? Helpless. She felt absolutely helpless. So she did the only thing that usually calmed her nerves. She took a walk.

The Eden Express was a rather quiet ship. Most ships she rode on usually had a low buzz of chatter and a steady stream of passengers roaming the halls, but there didn't seem to be anyone present other than a few stewardesses and clerks at small desks.

The girl let her sore limbs carry her to the second floor, let her eyes stare longingly out the giant windows that provided a gorgeous view of the stars and moon and twinkling planets in the distance. The railway that the train was on seemed to glow softly in the inky sky.

It all felt very lonely.

She wanted to cry. This wasn't right. This shouldn't have happened. There had to be someone she could talk to, maybe some extra Pods or Lifeboats she could take that would lead to Jieva before time ran out. She could be safe with them. Or, at least, she could send an email, a letter, a message of some sort. Couldn't she? Just let them know that she was safe, but alone. Then her last conversation with Auron rang in her ears:

"_It's fallen, Princess. Go! Get away, be safe, but don't go to Jieva and _don't_ come back home. Not yet."_

"_But—"_

"_You listen to me. Go to Eden and find someplace safe. I promise someone will find you, just be safe…"_

She couldn't go back. Not yet. It probably wasn't safe to contact anyone either. But still. Then another thought popped into her head.

_Isn't this what you wanted? A way out. You could hide away on Eden, away from everyone and everything. Disappear. No one would know if you were alive or not. You'd be free. Free, you could…_

She wanted to cry.

It wasn't until she felt the sting of tears in the back of her throat that she realized she had come to a stop in front of the window. There was a boy by her side, a bit taller than her, probably no older either. She hadn't noticed him when she had walked up, but now she got a good look at him. A closer look at him…

_He looks sad, too_. She didn't know why the thought popped up in her head. It just did. And now she couldn't stop staring at him, couldn't keep from wondering what was troubling the blonde stranger so much that he didn't even realize there was someone next to him. There was some look in his eye, something close to disdain, but mixed with something else. She couldn't place it.

Naminé followed his gaze out the window, eyed the stars that seemed to drift by beyond the glass. "It's horrible, isn't it?"

The boy jumped at the sound of her voice, turning only to realize—at last—that she was there. He seemed really taken aback by her question, unsure about her presence. In fact, he seemed to examine her for a good minute. "I'm sorry?"

"Nights like these."

She didn't have the slightest clue why these words were coming out of her mouth, what kind of meaning they were supposed to have. Not once did she take her eyes away from the window, her mouth forming a thin frown.

"I don't think I understand."

She fell silent for a moment. Tried to figure out what she meant. Then: "It's like it's sucking you in. You know. It makes you feel really small, really insignificant. Like one of those specks of dust."

Isn't that how she felt now? Like a useless speck of dust?

The boy wasn't so sure either. "I guess."

"And then…the stars look so close, and the moon too. Makes you think you can reach out and touch them, right? Like, if you can do that, you can do anything."

"I suppose."

Her hands were trembling now as she tried to keep herself from crying, so she folded them neatly in front of her. Why was she saying such things? It didn't make sense. For a long while she fell silent, trying to sort out her emotions, her thoughts. As the seconds ticked away, though, she felt her eyes grow more and more watery, felt her vision blur.

"Um…are you okay?"

She couldn't even speak, instead just shook her head.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

No… She didn't, she really didn't. It would only make it worse. Yet she found herself clenching her hands together and talking all the same. She looked at the stranger. "Have you ever…ever been forced to do something you didn't want to do?"

The boy's azure gaze washed over her curiously, and an expression crossed his face. Yes. He understood. Maybe not exactly, but something about the way he was staring at her let her know that he understood to some extent. "Everyone…has moments where it feels like that, I'm sure."

"But have you ever been forced into anything." Little streams were running down her cheeks now, and she didn't care anymore. She just let them. "Something you'd give anything to get out of?"

"Sort of."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing… I haven't done anything yet."

She didn't know what it was she wanted to hear. Didn't know why she was asking this boy who didn't know the first thing about her, a boy that she didn't know the first thing about. Why was she asking these questions in the first place? She didn't know, but she wanted to. She wanted an answer. She wanted to know if she should go with her own selfish desire or wait it out until she could return back home.

_Do I want to go home? That's the question. Do I really want to?_

"_You're too kind. You wouldn't forsake your people."_

Was she? Wouldn't she?

The girl had to struggle to keep her voice level. "If you could, would you run? If it meant hurting someone you cared about?"

It was clear that this boy didn't know how to respond. He looked a bit uncomfortable, and yet he was reaching out a hand to wipe at her tears. His kindness only made her feel worse. She couldn't explain it, but her tears seemed to increase.

"I don't know. It depends… Please don't cry; it's kind of awkward."

"I'm sorry." But she couldn't stop.

The boy continued to wipe at her face gently until Naminé shook her head away and did so herself. In spite of the situation, she managed to give a weak laugh, shaking her head. "Look at me. I'm freaking you out and I don't even know you…"

He looked like he was about to laugh himself, not because it was funny but because, well, it made the awkwardness a little better. Finally, he asked, "Are you a princess?"

_How does he…? Oh… My dress._ She had almost forgotten she was wearing her royal crest right on her chest. She'd probably have to change later. The girl shook her head. "The daughter of one. My grandmother's more of a figurehead in our land nowadays, though."

Was, before the Council was dissolved. Before Jieva went on with their meddling. Before the elderly woman had…

The boy stared at her questioningly. "Where?"

"C'ia."

"Oh." He paused for a moment, looked like he was about to move but didn't. For some reason, Naminé saw his next question coming even before he asked it. "If you don't mind me asking…"

"I do," she replied quietly, politely, still wiping her eyes. She couldn't explain her situation. Probably shouldn't, as tempting as it was. She couldn't be sure…not until she figured out what she would do. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have bothered you."

"It's fine."

_Why are you so nice to me? You don't even know me? Plus you probably have your own problems._ Instead of asking all of this, though, she merely stared back out the window, sniffing. From the corner of her eye she saw the boy lift a hand, almost as if to pat her shoulder, but he seemed to think better of it and let it fall to his side. Slowly he turned to head past her, but paused. "I hope, whatever it is, it gets better for you."

She couldn't help but smile. He was sweet. He really was. Even if she didn't really feel better, even if it probably wouldn't get better. "And for you, too."

She looked back at him, taking in his curious expression. "What?"

"You looked really sad when I walked up…"

Ah, then he seemed to understand. It was weird…there was some weird connection between the two of them. He smiled once more.

"I'm Roxas."

"Naminé."

"Feel better."

"Thank you."

Then he left her in the middle of the hallway, left her to her thoughts.

Not long after, she came to her decision.

~x~

**Sunday Nov. 5, 6812; Eden Express**

A day had come and gone. She had spent it wandering the ship, eating what free food was available in the Dining Hall, and wandering some more. She didn't know what else to do. It wasn't until she checked one of the clocks in the hall and realized how early it was that exhaustion washed over her.

She needed to sleep. So she managed to find a rather small room in the back on the very first floor. It was set up like a train with two aisles of seats pressed to the walls, but it didn't go back that far. Only a handful of people were present—some men, some women. Some of them were in uniform, though she wasn't sure what kind they were. Everyone had their seats reclined so they could sleep. A chorus of light snores and tired mumbles met her ears when she slipped inside.

This was good. She'd just take a seat near the back, away from them all, and—

"Excuse me."

"Hm?"

"Can I help you?"

_Crap._ She was caught. A young woman was eyeing her curiously from her seat, green eyes never leaving Naminé's face. The woman's curly brown hair fell down of her shoulders, the rest of it in a lengthy braid. She was one of the few people not in uniform, instead sporting a pink dress that was rather similar to Naminé's. Something about the way this woman was staring at her… The girl's voice was a whisper. "Um…"

"You aren't supposed to be back here." In spite of the words, the woman's tone was gentle. Understanding, almost. It made Naminé nervous for some reason.

"I… I need someplace to stay."

"You don't have a room?"

"No."

"How are you onboard then?"

What was she supposed to say? That she was a stowaway? She felt tears welling up again. "Please… I… I j-just need a p-place to stay…"

The woman eyed her for a long moment before giving a sigh, scanning the room. The others were still asleep. The woman scooted over into the seat beside her, patting the now vacant chair. "Sit with me."

Wiping at her eyes furiously, Naminé obliged. The woman lightly patted the girl on the back, mustering a smile. "You just stay with me for the time being. Technically it's not allowed, but I can pull some strings with my boss."

"Thank y-you, miss."

"Call me Aerith."

"Miss Aerith. I-I'm Naminé."

"Where are you from?"

So she told her. Because she couldn't take it anymore, she told the woman the entire story, tears streaming down her face the entire time. When she was finished, the woman was staring at her wide eyed with her hand pressed to her mouth.

"Oh my…"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Okay, we'll… We'll figure something out. Maybe I could contact somebody. I'm not sure."

"I-I'm really s-sorry…"

"Stop it, alright." The woman was almost motherly in the way she was soothing the girl, and it only made Naminé want to cry more. Why were random people being so nice to her? "It's going to be okay."

She said that now, and yet she didn't really know. She couldn't be sure. Though…

Naminé could only hope.

~x~

**Redone:** Jan. 3, 2012

**Edited:** Jan. 5, 2012


	9. Sora: Calm Before the Storm

**. sora .**

He had always seen Cloud as a big brother figure, the kind of guy who had most things figured out and always kept his cool in times of hardship. You know, that person everyone kind of turned to when they didn't know what to do because, well, if anyone had a plan it would be him, right? That's just the way Sora saw him, even if the blonde wasn't the most sociable person around.

But the man in front of him… This man couldn't be Cloud.

It was a week after the funeral. The wedding, originally scheduled four days ago on the twelfth, had been cancelled and the invited guests had been informed of the circumstances. Ever since, things had been slow. The Lockhart manor was…quiet, to say the least. The gossip and giddy chatter that was characteristic of the maids working in the household was absent. The chef's signature courses were lacking. The butler was more reserved than usual. No one wanted to look others in the eye, wanted to speak above a whisper or at all, for that matter. It was like living in a graveyard.

Mr. Lockhart wasn't quite himself after the incident. His humor and openness seemed to diminish greatly, and now he was just… Well, there was no other way Sora could put it; the man was just there. He'd float about the house every now and then, head out to work, come back, read, eat. Maybe even sleep, just a bit, but that was it.

Mrs. Lockhart had locked herself in her room after the news about her daughter and hadn't come out since. Not even for the funeral, which was one of the most painful events Sora had ever had to sit through. He had felt like some invisible force was choking him the entire time… From what the brunette could gather, no one was allowed to see Mrs. Lockhart other than Emile. The old maid was bringing the woman her meals, but most of them went half eaten, if eaten at all.

Roxas didn't talk much. Or, more really, he talked about everything _but_ Tifa or anything that was even remotely related to the woman. She had become a hot zone for him. (That's what Sora called them: hot zones. He had coined the term late during their freshman year in high school. If there was a topic that sent Roxas into defensive mode, rage, or even what bordered on depression, Sora backed away from it completely.) All the blonde teen did was pretty much lie around his guest room for the entire week. Not like there was anything else to do, was there? His and Cloud's parents had showed up a day after the funeral—there was no way around it, unfortunately, even though they had wanted to be there—and they made regular visits in between unpacking at their new home, but they seemed as out of it as everyone else.

No, but it wasn't Roxas' reaction, his parents' reactions, or the Lockhart's reactions that worried him most; in an extremely sad way, it was sort of expected. It was Cloud's reaction that scared Sora. That brought him to now, a week later—technically nine days after the woman had passed away—standing in the doorway of Tifa's room. It didn't look much different from how it was before…except the bed had been made, and some of her personal belongings had been tidied up. The curtains were drawn back, save for the one opposite the bed.

Cloud was standing in front of that one, kind of staring at it but not really seeing it. Sora would have kept on walking down the hallway if it weren't for the fact that standing was _all_ Cloud was doing. It almost looked like the man was hoping to telepathically will the curtain to open itself just by staring at it. Sora waited a good minute, eyeing the unmoving male.

"Cloud?"

Of course there was no response. The man just stood there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. Sora frowned and pushed the door open, stepping inside. "Cloud, what's wrong?"

_That's a stupid question. Why'd you ask that, huh? Of course you know what's wrong…_

Cloud let out a breath, ran his fingers along the curtain's silken fabric. "The flu doesn't kill people. It doesn't make you sick like that."

"Yeah…"

"It _was_ just the flu, right? Maybe the doctors missed something. Maybe she wasn't eating right, or…"

"No one saw it coming, Cloud. It's no one's fault."

Sure, it was easy enough to say that, to rationalize. But he could understand why the man wanted someone to blame. People didn't… It was just the flu. It had to be. She had just been sick, would have gotten better, but…

But what? What went wrong? Was that what Cloud was hoping to figure out by just standing here in his late fiancé's room?

Sora sighed, looked up at his brotherly figure with an expression akin to pity. Then he reached out a hand and gently tugged at the man's sleeve. "C'mon. You need to get out or something."

Cloud didn't say anything, didn't move. Just kept staring at the curtain. His jaw was tense as he lightly pulled his arm away from Sora's reach. "Leave me alone for a bit."

And even though the brunette was hurt, wanted badly to shake the man and tell him he wasn't the only one grieving, he wasn't the _only_ one who felt like they'd had a hole carved into their heart, Sora merely asked, "You sure?"

A nod. "Yeah."

So the boy left it at that and let the blonde return to his thoughts.

* * *

"—_ecently, authorities have closed off access to Sectors One through Four, yet there has been no reason given as to why. Investigations are currently underway, and Chief Quinn is urging residences not to worry—"_

"Is that the news?" Sora asked as he poked his head into the main den.

Roxas was lying on his back on one of the sofas, a bored expression on his face. A small translucent sphere was floating lazily inches above his face, flashing a red light that the blonde tried to ignore. "Something about a blockade, I think. I was just flipping channels, though. Beam, change."

**Yes sir,** the sphere answered meekly. It shone blue for a split second, and the channel was changed to yet another news station. Sora stood in the doorway for a moment longer before heading over to the sofa, nudging Roxas' feet out of the way, and taking a seat himself.

Footage of some sort of wreckage was on the screen. Brick buildings turned into piles of rubble and debris, shattered glass littering the streets, lamps and signs torn from their posts and bent in half… Several DO NOT CROSS ribbons had been stretched out around the scene, and police and what looked like detectives were inspecting here and there, talking with one another. The camera panned right ever so slowly as a woman's voice droned on in the background.

"_Rumors have spread about a possible threat to Eden's national security. People are beginning to fear that there may be more to these recent attacks than meets the eye, and the fact that authorities are hiding most of the facts doesn't help matters."_

The brunette narrowed his eyes curiously. "Attacks?"

Roxas frowned. "That's not that far from here."

"Where?"

"It's Area Seven."

As in, a train ride away from their comfy retreat in Sector Seven, Area Nine. Not even that; you could easily walk there in half an hour, twenty minutes if you were ambitious. It was one thing that the authorities of Eden divided the planet into ten different sectors, but dividing those same sectors into even smaller districts was just confusing. One reason why Sora didn't plan on moving here any time soon. He wasn't sure how people did it, why Roxas' family wanted to deal with it. And now this. Not that Eden wasn't nice, but if there were _attacks_ taking place and no one knew about it…

"_It's unclear what caused these attacks, or even who the culprits behind them are, but the S7PF is doing everything possible to find answers. Residences have been evacuated to designated areas back on the mainland, many of which have inquired when they'll be able to return. Police have been unresponsive. Until further notice, certain areas in Sector Seven have been blocked off, including Areas Four, Six, Seven and—"_

"Don't say Eight…"

"—_Eight."_

"Damn it."

Sora looked over and couldn't help but chuckle at how truly devastated his friend seemed to be, asking, "What's going on in Area Seven?"

The blonde teen rolled over on the couch, back facing the TV, and picked at the green fabric absently. A small sigh left his mouth. "I heard they were holding the Sleeper Festival there this year, in the Plaza. I was gonna ask Cloud if he wanted to go tomorrow night. Mom and Dad too. Maybe take their minds off things…"

It was here the boy trailed off, a solemn expression crossing his face. Sora eyed him for a long while before asking, "It's tomorrow?"

"If they don't cancel it."

"They might just move it, push it back until everything's set up somewhere else."

"Mm…"

"If not, we can still go out and have fun. I hear they built a new Road Side downtown."

The blonde thought for a moment, still picking at the couch. Beam, the floating sphere, drifted closer towards him before bobbing back into the air lazily, closer to Sora. After a while the blonde sat up and looked at his friend. "You still have your Board?"

"Yup. Packed it with me, just in case."

That earned the brunette a small smile in response. "I'll get Cloud and we can head out right now."

Roxas froze the moment he rose from the couch, though, staring at the new image that had just flashed onto the screen. Swarms of excited passengers were emerging from the Eden Express, luggage in tow and eyes skimming around curiously. A chorus of cheers and calls and shouts filled the air as they headed for the streets, towards cars and buses that would take them to their new homes. Migrants from the mainland. It happened every year, every few months. All these decades Eden had been in existence, and people were still transitioning. It was impressive, to say the least.

A news reporter stood in front of it all, interviewing people here and there as they walked by on the street, asking how they felt about arriving on Eden for the first time. Some people—teens and kids, mostly—could be seen in the background waving, trying to catch the camera's attention. No, but it wasn't at those kids that Roxas was staring at, it was something else. He looked worried, almost.

Sora eyed him curiously, looked to the screen, then back at his friend. "What is it?"

"That girl… In the corner."

Confused, Sora reexamined the screen more closely. Just barely could he make out the form of a young girl in a silvery white gown, her golden hair done up in a bun. She was standing in the background, waiting for someone it seemed, and she had an anxious look about her the way she was shifting back and forth on her feet like that—but other than that, and her rather extravagant dress, there wasn't anything interesting about her. At least not to Sora. After a minute, she walked off screen.

The boy rose from the couch as well, asking his friend, "What, you know her?"

"I think I met her on the EE a while back. She looks familiar. She's just now getting here?"

Why was he so concerned? It didn't really matter; shouldn't have mattered. Yet Sora couldn't deny the small feeling welling up in his chest and the pit of his stomach. He couldn't describe it, couldn't _understand_ it, but he had an idea what it was Roxas was feeling. Something…just didn't sit right with him at that moment, for whatever reason.

Sora glanced at the television again, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets. "That's Sector Nine. It probably took the ship a little longer to land there."

"Huh."

A moment of awkward silence. Finally, the brunette flashed an eager smile. "So, we should get going?"

"Yeah… Right. Beam, TV off."

**Yes sir.**

The television was switched off the moment the hovering sphere flashed blue, and Beam settled itself on a nearby coffee table as the boys headed out of the room.

* * *

The boys had been avid members of the local Road Side in Sora's hometown ever since they first learned how to hoverboard in sixth grade, and whenever Roxas ventured to Monsea to visit his friend they made it a point to spend at least one weekend at the boarding park. After all, there wasn't a soul alive that could resist the various curved ramps and low rails the park possessed, or the deep dips and rigid steps spread out here and there, or the Z-Gravity track off to the side that changed shape depending on the background music playing. No matter where you went, the general feel was the same. Certain things might have been put in different areas of the wide open building, but it was the same.

That was one reason why Sora had been looking forward to winding down for the rest of the day. There hadn't been much else this whole week that calmed his nerves or made him forget the current issue hanging in the air, even if it was for a little bit.

Cloud had opted out, but had agreed to drive them there. He had a certain unnamed someone to meet that afternoon, and didn't want to be late.

"It's Leon, isn't it?" Roxas asked his brother the moment he and Sora had emptied out of the car onto the sidewalk. He earned a roll of the eyes in response.

"I'll be at home for the rest of the night, so call Mom or Dad to pick you guys up when you finish."

"Wait, Cloud—"

"Have fun." The man didn't leave any room for further discussion, instead rolling his window up and pulling back onto the street. Then he drove off, leaving the teens to stare after him curiously.

Sora shook his head, smiling in spite of the situation. "He's got a date with Leon."

"Obviously."

That was a good thing, though, wasn't it? Sora had to admit, considering how worried he had been when he had stumbled in on Cloud earlier today, he was a little surprised. But this was good, a step forward. Or something. Maybe. No, most definitely. He'd be positive about it.

Since no one else was, he had to be.

Still grinning to himself, the brunette tugged on his friend's arm, tucking his hoverboard underneath his own. "C'mon. I'll race you."

Roxas blinked for a minute before a grin broke across his face as well. "You're on."

For a blessed moment, for the next two or so hours, time shifted backwards. The boys weren't seventeen, no, but had gone back four years to a time when they had been their closest. Sora had spent the summer at Roxas' house that year, had shared a room with him, and had all but become his twin separated at birth. It didn't feel like that so much nowadays, but at the time there was nothing else but him and Roxas and the endless time they had on their hands for the heated months to come. That had been the summer they discovered the abandoned storage house near the neighbors' yard and had made it their own hangout. That had been the summer they started to question their world, had wondered what it would be like a decade from then, had wondered why their parents had them so sheltered and pampered like other stereotypical rich kids. That had been the summer that they made their own little fantasies and games and played them out, even if they were "too old" for such childish behavior—because, really, who gave a damn?

That sort of childish innocence and energy had rushed back and washed over them now as they hopped onto their boards and jetted into the building without any regard for the people walking around the lobby. They had weaved their ways through the thin crowd, ignored several annoyed warnings from staff nearby. ("No boarding in the lobby! Hey!") From there on it had been straight to the track, zooming along the curved pathways with other boarders around their age, letting the cool air blow against their faces. Sora loved every minute of it and had wished it could have lasted for just a little longer.

Because, in the end, it didn't really take the anxious feeling welling in his chest away.

* * *

"I already bought your ticket, and you're name's been added to the passenger list so they already know to expect you. You should catch the EE on Monday."

"Monday? That's tomorrow."

"Yes, Sora."

"Mom, you promised I could stay a little longer."

The woman sighed into the phone. "How much longer do you plan on imposing on the Lockhart's? They're _grieving_, Sora; it's rude if you stay any longer."

"Then I can ask Rox's parents—"

"No."

_Why does she sound so upset about this? It's not like I'm doing anything wrong._ The brunette frowned into the phone and glanced over at Roxas with an exasperated look on his face. The blonde merely arched an eyebrow in question. They were in an ice cream shop now, seated by the window with little bowls and milkshake glasses before them. (Courtesy of Roxas' aching wallet, of course. Sora promised to pay him back. Eventually.) The afternoon had come and gone, they had boarded 'til their hearts' content, and since they didn't feel quite like going home yet they got a treat for the time being. They had finished just when Roxas was about to suggest they head back before it got too late, but Sora's phone had rang.

And now his mother was telling him he had to be packed and ready to go first thing tomorrow morning. Not cool.

He had a sort of pout on his face, something that seemed to fit him so well and was slightly amusing at the same time. He found himself swirling his spoon around in his near empty bowl, stirring the milky remains of his ice cream. "You couldn't have at least come down to pick me up, or something?"

"We're not arguing about this, Sora. Your break's almost up; school's going to start in a couple of weeks and you're not even packed for that. Besides…" Why did her voice drop? Why did she sound so… What was the word? Sora couldn't place it, but it didn't sit right with him. His hand paused in its stirring when the woman continued, "I've heard it's not safe there at the moment. There's been talk."

_The attacks?_ The chocolate haired boy didn't know how to respond at first, found himself eyeballing his friend who was lost in thought as he gazed out the window. "You don't…have to worry, or anything. Nothing's happened."

"But there's been _talk_, Sora. The fact remains you're still coming home."

"Okay."

"Ten-thirty, Sora. Don't miss your flight."

"Okay, I get it. I won't."

"I love you."

"Love you, too." And that was that. No more argument, no more discussion. That's how it went with his mother, but he couldn't really complain too much. She'd let him come out here on his own in the first place, hadn't she?

He sighed and tucked his phone away in his pocket, causing Roxas to eye him curiously out of the corner of his eyes. "Bad news?"

"I have to leave tomorrow."

"Ah." The boy didn't say anything else, merely stared back out the window with his chin propped on his palm and that thoughtful expression back on his face.

Sora took a sip of his milkshake, watching the blonde. "You gonna miss me while I'm gone?"

"Sure."

"So much love and caring. I'm heartbroken."

Roxas gave a smile, but it only lasted for a few seconds before the usual neutral look painted his face once more. There was an air solemnity around him now. Something was bothering him.

Sora frowned. "What's up?"

Silence. Then: "I think… I want to go to Area Eight."

So he was still worried about that? "It's closed off, remember?"

"I know. I just want to check it out, you know. Maybe find out something about the Sleeper Festival."

"That's what internet's for."

"I'd rather go…"

"Right now?"

"Yeah."

Sora thought for a moment, examining his friend's face. If it was blocked off, most likely they would be turned away by whatever authorities were patrolling the area. They'd probably get in trouble, probably get sent home. Surely Roxas knew this? No, but the boy looked determined for some reason. Sora didn't get it. "You're serious? It bothers you that much?"

"Would you come with me?"

Like he had much of a choice. He glanced out the window himself, taking in the darkening sky. Not too much so, but you could tell the sun would sink into nothingness, the way the sky was tinged purple and gold. Eventually it'd be completely black. That's how it always was here, from what he'd seen, so why did now feel so different…? Slowly, Sora gave a nod.

"Sure, why not. Let's hurry before it gets too late, though."

* * *

None of the bus drivers they had asked beforehand had been going in their direction, so they had walked. It hadn't taken that long at all. Granted, it had felt like an eternity because they had gone in silence the entire time, a silence in which Sora kept wondering, really, what all of this was about. All he could do was lazily drag his hoverboard behind him and ask questions every now and then without really expecting an answer. It was fine. He never got one.

He just didn't expect to have even more questions pop into his head by the time they made it to the Cross Area. Wherever two Areas in the same Sector met, there were Cross Areas which was basically a gate of sorts built into a low wall. It wasn't like there was high security for each gate or anything; so long as you had sufficient identification you could pass through. It was a simple enough process, and yet—

"There's no one here," Sora muttered to his friend. They took wary steps closer to the barred off gate, slipped underneath the DO NOT CROSS tape that formed a short barrier in front of them. He had thought there would have been _someone_ out here, especially with it getting late and all. There usually was. So where…?

Roxas was the first to grip the handle on the gate, staring up at the various notices and signs stuck to the walls. _Keep Out. Closed until further notice. Trespassers Beware._

It was the last one that set Sora off, made him have doubts. "Maybe we should go…"

His light haired companion was already climbing onto the wall, carefully gripping the ridges above. It wasn't so high up that the boy couldn't jump up and grab onto the edge. He paused, flashing a mischievous grin Sora's way as he hoisted himself up. "You scared?"

"You wish."

"Then stop being a baby and come on."

Those were the magic words, he supposed. Roxas had dropped his board, but Sora managed to toss his over before starting his climb. Sneaking their way inside brought the teen back to their treks into Roxas' neighbor's yard, into the abandoned storage house. Except, the storage house hadn't been half as eerie, hadn't had such an empty feeling even though it was small and run down. The streets here were barren, vehicles piled on one side, the same mess and rubble that they had seen on TV hours ago.

And, of course, there wasn't a single soul in sight.

Sora froze the moment he made it over the wall and landed beside his friend. He just knelt there on the ground and stared around with wide eyes. "I don't like this…"

He spoke for the both of them, it seemed, because Roxas had a similar look on his face. Put off. Confused. A bit scared, maybe, but for what reason? Where _was_ everybody? That seemed to be the big question now. Not, what happens if we get caught? Not, why haven't alarms gone off by now? Where was everyone? Where had this mess come from? Why were they getting this feeling?

"You don't find it odd," Roxas said after a long moment's silence, his voice incredibly soft, "that we haven't heard a word about 'attacks' until today. That they seemed to be hiding information about it until now."

"It is weird…but we haven't been here that long. Maybe… Maybe they've mentioned it on the news before and we just weren't around to hear about it."

"Then why haven't they told anyone about all of this?" Roxas was walking now, slowly, and before long Sora was on his feet following after him. "They block off all these areas without giving a reason, and they have all of this crap hidden away? What if it's serious?"

"Then we should _go_."

That feeling was back again. That weird feeling the brunette couldn't describe but tugged at his heart all the same. It was growing now, making him more anxious than before. He gripped his hoverboard tightly, bit his bottom lip as they walked. It was unnerving how quiet it was, save for the careful sound of their voices. He wanted to turn around and just head back to the Lockhart manor, and yet something was driving his feet forward. Something was pulling him further into this abandoned part of city and he couldn't break himself free.

Something about all of this was very terribly wrong.

By now the sky had darkened considerably. Roxas seemed to use that as an excuse, masking some of the uneasiness he was feeling as well. "It's getting late anyway… Since you're so afraid of the dark… Yeah, let's go."

They had stopped then and promptly headed back the way they came. Again, Roxas was the first one back over the wall, leaving Sora to scramble up behind him. The brunette paused, though, when he thought he heard a hissing sound from behind. Not too close, but not far away. Blue eyes skimmed the darkening area curiously. And he could have sworn—no, his mind was playing tricks on him… He could have sworn he saw a flash of white in the distance, saw two glowing golden orbs peering in his direction. An uncomfortable feeling prickled along his spine.

"Sora?"

The sound of Roxas' worried voice snapped him out of it. "Coming." And he was up and over the wall just as quickly as he'd came.

Those golden eyes in the distance never left his shrinking figure.


	10. Leon: Ashes to Ashes

**. author's note .**

The only excuse for why this chapter is so, so, SO late is because of an intense family issue (that has been dealt with, fortunately). That had to come first, so for once I don't feel entirely guilty about the delay. I do wish it hadn't taken so long for me to write this, though. For the most part, my updates will still be sporadic, but I'll try to be better about them. So thank you for bearing with me! Also, I owe _BrittChick_ oodles of love for being my new beta! (Sorry for updating without you! I got a bit impatient. Forgive moi!)

On another unrelated note, I officially want to have Jesse McCartney's babies. Why? _YOUNG JUSTICE_. 'Nough said. If you're unaware, go educate yourself.

On with the story!

**

* * *

**

**. leon .**

There had been a spark between them from the very first moment they met. It was like some sort of invisible pull between them that Leon noticed right away but never said anything about. In fact, he had done his best to ignore it. They were nothing more than coworkers at that time. Leon had been commissioned to help design an upscale hotel building on Luma. The commissioner, a business tycoon by the name Sean Strife, wanted everything to be perfect, wanted the latest addition to his successful chain of hotels to be perfect. To ensure this, he had put his own son in charge of the design team. To make sure that "the vision" would come true. Of course, Leon had no problem with that. At first.

Strife's son had been a bit different than he had expected. He gave orders to the team like any good leader, gave suggestions where necessary, but he was usually quiet. Kept to himself, always reserved and watching as the rest of the team went about their work. He was nothing like his attention commanding father, not the boisterous and flashy type that Leon had assumed someone coming from new money would be. They got along well. They could bounce ideas off one another with such an ease that others wondered if they had been separated at birth. There was a _spark_, Leon noticed, but he had been quick to try and ignore it.

It hadn't been a problem.

Somehow they had gone from a handful of months of working on the project to a number of months meeting up after work for drinks or lunch. From friendly meetings during work breaks to dinner with friends. To private dinners for two. From that, to sneaking away for nights off to Cloud's home—yes, right behind his parents' backs. The innocent spark had quickly become a mutual acknowledgment of attraction on both their parts. As bad as it could have turned out—especially for Cloud—they didn't care.

It hadn't been a problem.

The problems started when both he and Cloud acknowledged that this was more than a passing fling or a bout of rebelliousness on the blonde's part. The problems started when Leon came to terms with the fact that he couldn't _make_ Cloud abandon the bride his parents had chose, when he understood that even though he couldn't force things he couldn't _not_ feel what he felt. The problems only grew when Leon met Tifa for the first time, one day while visiting at Cloud's. When the woman had found out the truth—and accepted it wholeheartedly. When Leon felt the weight of their relationship in his heart, heavily, because Tifa was a good woman. The problems only grew when Cloud constantly started worrying about his parents finding out, about the consequences behind them doing so. The problems grew when Cloud said enough was enough and that it was best to end it.

So, after close to a year of under the radar, on-again and off-again dating, they called it quits. Three months later the building project had been completed. A celebratory party had been held during the hotel's grand opening, to which Leon had been invited by Mr. Strife. But he refused and went back to his home planet S'Idar to continue his work in architecture. Hoping Cloud would keep contact, but not wanting to initiate that contact himself.

So, two years of silence passed.

That had been a problem.

* * *

The only reason he had found out that Cloud had moved to Eden was because of Tifa. In spite of the circumstances, she had always called, always kept Leon updated. She'd say how she could tell that the blonde missed him. She'd say that he got stubborn and silent whenever the brunette was mentioned. She'd ask, always, why they wouldn't just talk to each other instead of making her the middle man.

Leon would always reply that she had made herself the middle man, so she shouldn't complain.

One day she had mentioned that Cloud and his family would make their new home on Eden, closer to the Lockhart's. "You should come to visit. He'd want that. He won't say it—"

Leon had given a shake of the head and simply replied, "If he asks me, I'll come." Otherwise, he was just a thorn in the blonde's side.

There had been a long silence on the other end of the phone. Then, quietly, Tifa had brought up something that made Leon's heart stop for a split second. "The wedding's in a month."

A pause. "Is that so?"

"You should come. Consider it an official invitation from the Lockhart family."

"What would be the point of that?"

Another pause. "I'm breaking off the engagement. As soon as he gets here, Leon."

"Don't do this for us."

"It's not just for you—" And Leon could see the matter-of-fact, I-know-best expression on the woman's face at that moment in his mind's eye, could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm doing it for me."

"Your parents—"

"Will get over it. I'm a big girl; I can make my own decisions. So can you."

That was all she'd left the man with before hanging up. He hadn't heard from her after that, but had kept her words in mind. He'd thought on the invitation, but hadn't made any move to accept or reject it. It wasn't until one of the Lockhart maids had called him, asking for his reservation on the guest list, that he confirmed, packed his things, bought himself a ticket, booked himself a temporary home on Eden, and set out with determination in his heart.

He hadn't been aware of Tifa's sickness at that time. He hadn't known that, just a day after his arrival on Eden, the woman would no longer be in this world. At that time, it hadn't mattered.

At that time, the only thing that mattered was Cloud.

* * *

It was going on four by the time Cloud showed up by his apartment that afternoon. He had decided to wait for the blonde on the curb in front of the waist high gate around the complex, bundled up in a loose leather jacket and a woolen scarf. (It wasn't _that_ cold out, but the weather in Sector Seven got schizophrenic later on in the night from what he'd heard, so it didn't hurt to be too careful.) The blonde cruised his way next to the curb before putting the car in park and leaning over to push the passenger door open. There was a tired look on his face, but Leon had expected as much. He slipped into the hovering vehicle, flashing a small smile. "Took you long enough."

Cloud returned the smile, stiff as it was, and replied, "I had to drop off the boys. They wanted to go hover boarding."

"What time do you have to pick them up?"

"Won't have to. I told them to call my parents when they're done, so we have the night to ourselves."

Leon stretched an arm around Cloud's shoulders, pulling him in and planting a tender kiss on the blonde's cheek while whispering, "Sounds like a plan."

Cloud merely gave a consenting hum, turning to return the kiss on the brunette's lips. Then he sighed, averted his gaze, and shrugged himself out of the man's grip. "We should go."

Leon eyed him for a moment, scowling. Why did he sound so cold? "We don't have to go today if you don't want to, you know."

To which Cloud promptly shook his head and replied, "No. You wanted to give a proper goodbye, so…" His grip on the gear shift tightened, causing Leon to place a hand over his partner's fingers. Cloud aimed his crystalline gaze at the man, expression softening.

"It's gonna be okay, Cloud."

"Yeah."

Leon kissed him again before the blonde cleared his throat and started the car back up.

"Okay, let's go."

* * *

Eves Grand Cemetery wasn't necessarily a cemetery in the traditional sense. It was a large structure, rivaling the likes of the Celestrian Palaces on Luma—or, say, two of the Sistine Chapels stacked on top of each other, though most people were more familiar with the palaces. It almost, but not quite, hit the one hundred-thirty foot mark in terms of height, with a golden cross perched on the very top. That cross, along with the building's sleek marble walls, seemed to shine at all times of the day. In fact, there were moments where those passing by thought that the building truly lit up on its own. There were thirteen stories in total. Each floor had been designed to constantly change shape to accommodate new additions. The system was simple.

Whenever anyone in Sector Seven died, Eves was called in. The body was taken and preserved until the day of the funeral—which could be held anywhere at anytime, but was usually held in Eves' Grand Hall for those living close by. Then, afterwards, the body was sealed away in a glass capsule-like coffin which was then put into one of the numerous Reserve Rooms found on each floor of the building. It would be kept frozen for the next five years. Five years, and nothing more. That was all the time the system allowed. Once those five years were up, bodies were cleared out, cremated, and buried.

It was a very efficient system, though some argued it was somewhat cruel, considering these were people's remains that were being handled. The one saving grace was the fact that, at any time before the five years were up, one could have a private viewing for their loved one. That was the reason Cloud and Leon had planned the trip to Eves in the first place.

However, as they approached the building's main entrance, Leon found himself struggling to keep his feet moving. The brunette came to a stop just feet from the sliding glass doors, which in turn caused Cloud to pause and eye him carefully. "Leon?"

"Hold… Hold on."

It was sinking in, now. The entire time during the drive, the thought that he would be seeing Tifa for the last time circled around in the back of his mind, but the _weight_ of that thought, that feeling, hadn't hit him until now. He hadn't been particularly close to the woman, not like Cloud. He hadn't disliked her, either. If anything, she was the kind of friend you made and talked to every once in a while, but made no effort to get to know more than necessary. Not a loved one, but not a stranger either. The reason Leon was here now was because it seemed proper to pay his respects, if only for a brief moment.

But he couldn't make himself move.

Cloud had been watching his partner carefully as all these thoughts swam through Leon's head. Without a word, he gripped the brunette's hand and led him into the building. Leon allowed himself to be pulled along.

The entire place was uncomfortably depressing, in spite of the pristine silver walls and the wide open space that greeted them in the lobby. It was decorated with neat rows of sofas and coffee tables, television screens that faced them, statues and other works of art spanning the walls. There were six sets of elevators, along with lengthy hallways between each one that led to bathrooms, faculty only rooms, and who knew where else. Then there were the check in counters directly to the right of the entrance. The rest was empty space where people paced circles or stood as if waiting for something.

Cloud and Leon headed straight for the check in counters, approaching the ginger haired woman closest to the end. An elderly man and what looked to be his son had just finished talking to woman, eyes downcast as they headed for the elevators. Leon watched them absently as Cloud spoke to the woman.

"Welcome to Eves Grand Cemetery. How may I help you?"

"We're here for a private viewing."

The red head gave a nod, already typing something on the computer screen in front of her. There was a soothing demeanor about her, Leon couldn't help but note. He found himself eyeballing her fingers as she spoke. "What's the name of your loved one?"

"Tifa Lockhart. H-A-R-T, no E."

More typing. Leon's eyes wandered. It was chilly in here…

"—hart… Mm. Huh."

"What?"

The edge in Cloud's voice was enough to snap Leon out of his mini-trance and cause him to look to the blonde. The man's brows were furrowed, a scowl on his face. The red head at the counter was eyeing her computer screen, amber eyes narrowed. "We don't have a Tifa Lockhart in our system, sir."

Cloud blinked at that. "We held her funeral here last week."

The woman ran the name through the system again, but continued to shake her head. "She's not listed…"

"The _hell_ do you mean she's not listed?"

It was then that Leon felt something wasn't right in the slightest. They didn't make mistakes like this. They couldn't have, not like this… This was a body. A _person_. Unless something was amiss with their computer systems—

The woman turned her attention away from the computer and to the speaker phone by her arm. Her fingers were quick to dial a number and switch the speaker on. A raspy voice on the other end answered. "Yeah, Areole?"

"Mike, I have two gentlemen here for a private viewing for a Tifa Lockhart. She's not coming up in the system."

"Did you check the Red List? It was updated this morning."

Red List?

The woman, Areole, seemed to be thinking the same thing. She wore an odd expression, like she wasn't grasping his words. She opened up another program on her computer, tick-tacking away at the keys for a good minute before her eyes widened a bit and her mouth formed an "O" or realization. Both men were staring at her warily at this point.

"Okay… Thank you, Mike."

"No prob."

Then she clicked the speaker off, eyeing the screen for a bit until Leon cleared his throat and asked, "Well?"

"Miss Lockhart… She was cremated last week, right after the funeral. Her ashes are in storage."

The moment the word "cremated" left her mouth, though, Cloud flipped. "_WHAT?_"

Leon could feel the sudden stares of the other people in the lobby, but was too shocked to really be bothered by it. Areole had to shush Cloud, waving her hand at him fervently. "Shh! _Please_—"

"What do you mean she was _cremated_? No one asked for her to be fucking cremated."

"It's a government order, sir."

"Why? What purpose, what _right_ do they have?"

And here the woman grew silent before briefly biting her lip and lowering her voice. "Did Miss Lockhart die from the flu?"

And there must have been something about her question, because Cloud grew incredibly stiff. There was a painful ache in Leon's chest for some reason. _This isn't making any sense…_

Somehow Cloud managed to keep his voice even—it sounded distant, almost. "Why does it matter?"

"There have been a number of deaths because of a certain strain of…flu. So I've been told. Anyone reported to have died from it is to be cremated as soon as possible."

Leon made a noise in the back of his throat. "From flu? What, is there an epidemic or something?"

"No, no." She didn't look quite so sure. "It's just… I haven't been told much, I'm sorry. They didn't give us much of an explanation other than that, so—"

"So, what?" Cloud cut her off, balling his hand into a fist. "If someone wants to see their family member again, they can't do that. You don't even notify families beforehand, ask for permission?"

"Orders from the High Council, sir. I'm sorry," she said, and she truly looked it. "We don't have a say; we're just supposed to follow those orders."

Cloud didn't even respond, instead turning from the counter and staring angrily into the air in front of him. Leon couldn't even move, just stayed where he was staring at the counter and the woman's now fidgeting fingers. It was a moment before Cloud turned back towards Areole more composed.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "If you want, we can arrange for the ashes to be sent to your home."

"…Yes. I'll do that."

"I'll get the paperwork for you."

He already knew that Cloud would set it up so that the Lockhart's would have their daughter back. They probably wouldn't be too happy about it, but it would be for the best. He didn't know what to think about the whole situation, to be honest, or even what he was supposed to be feeling.

He didn't know what to think at all.

* * *

The night was young, and they had nowhere else to go. They didn't feel like it, really. So Leon suggested they go find some food and some drinks and just get piss drunk for the rest of the night. Cloud didn't think that was a bad idea.

They ended up at some obscure bar and grill in a cozy corner of Area Five where the music was way too loud but the food was good enough to make you stay put. A server with pretty green eyes and a toothy smile had seated them in a booth near the back, and after they had sat down they ordered drink after drink for the next hour without really caring that they would have to drive back home later on.

A heavy silence had settled over them, and without saying a word both men agreed to focus on anything but the shock of their visit. A hard feat, but for an hour they had managed to get by with a table cluttered with shot glasses, a bottle of scotch, and fingers inconspicuously brushing against each other's arms every now and then.

The steadiness Leon was used to seeing in Cloud's eyes was nowhere near present. He was sullen and moody and staring anywhere but at the scrutinizing gray gaze aimed his way.

Leon decided to break the silence. "You're not going to cry, are you?"

"No." Cloud took another shot, tilting his head back until the glass was drained. He slammed it back down on the table with a thud, blue eyes unfocused. "I don't cry."

It was the truth. Not once had Leon ever seen a tear fall down the man's perfect face, but he couldn't keep a tired frown from crossing his lips as he stared at Cloud right then and concluded that there was a first for everything. "Liar."

Something wet, something burning and wet and heartbreaking, started sliding down the blonde's cheeks, causing him to sniff and bury his face in his arms, right on the table's surface. His shoulders shook and the table with them, but he was silent with his sobs. Leon just shook his head and took another shot.

"You're a damn liar, Cloud."

* * *

There were times when the two were gentle with each other. Hands running carefully down every dip, curve, and bulge in their bodies, kisses slow and sensual, with a steady rhythm that they had become accustomed to. Then there were times where taking it slow, being gentle, was completely disregarded and they went at it with all the passion of a fire storm, with whatever pent up emotions they had flowing to the brim and pouring out with a vengeance. Times like now. Leon found he actually preferred these moments.

There was a hungry way about them by the time they made it back to Leon's place. (Somehow the brunette had managed to get them there without crashing into anything.) Cloud hadn't said one word after his scene at the bar, but the moment they had made it through the door he spun Leon around, gripped the man's shaggy hair, and choked out, "Kiss me."

Leon obliged.

The blonde was rough with the kiss, crushing their lips together. It wasn't love that drove him, though the love was there. No, it was need. Raw, adrenaline fueled need. Stormy gray eyes slid shut as their owner let out a low moan and wrapped both arms around the other man's waist. Their lips smacked together, then pulled back, then together again in hungry pecks as they stumbled towards the living room.

Leon could feel the fingers in his hair move their way down to his face. Cloud planted both hands on his cheeks. He traced his thumb along Leon's scar, and the brunette let him, liked the cool of Cloud's skin against his own and the way his finger smoothed along the blemish on his face. (_"I think it's unique_,_"_ the blonde had told him once, long ago. He didn't know why that thought crossed his mind now.)

All thoughts abandoned him when Cloud shoved him onto the couch.

"Make me forget," the man whispered, blue eyes still unfocused, peering directly into Leon's. He dove in for another kiss, breathing heavily. "Just help me forget, please…"

Then Leon sat up with the blonde straddling his lap, tanned hands slipping underneath the man's shirt as he told Cloud to just shut up. Then the words stopped and they were yanking of each other's jackets and shirts and slipping off belts and struggling with zippers. Then they were dragging their hands across every_ inch_ of each toned and sweating body, relishing in the heat and the friction and the sense of urgency that had taken over their bodies.

Cloud had taken control, had gripped his lover's arms and pinned them on either side of his head. All the while his tongue was tracing down, down, dipping into navel and pelvis while Leon's breathing hitched and his head cocked back into the sofa pillow. And before he knew it Cloud had moved his hands to Leon's waist and started teasing the inside of the brunette's thighs with a hot, wet tongue. Before he could even gather himself, that tongue was dancing circles on his hardened need. Then Cloud took him whole in his mouth, sending a shudder through his spine.

All Leon could do was close his eyes and flex his fingers over the blonde's back, dig fingers in his flaxen spikes. He let out a deep, almost wounded moan as Cloud went to town, sucking fervently. He didn't end it there. He took Leon where he wanted to be, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.

Then he was the straddling the brunette once more, not even bothering with the wait or the preparation, and slid down full force with a sharp cry. Then Leon couldn't take it anymore and started rocking his hips with Cloud riding him fast and hard and—

"_Fuck_, Cloud!"

Leon was lost by then. He just let his head press into the fabric of the couch and let his eyes stay clamped tight and his mouth hang open as he panted, breathed for more while Cloud gave him what they both wanted. It was raw. It was messy.

It was an escape for the night.

But they wouldn't be able to forget.


End file.
